


the advantage of careing

by ElisaReven



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: #Sherlolly, F/M, Sherlock and Molly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-01-31
Packaged: 2018-01-10 16:45:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 30,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1162103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElisaReven/pseuds/ElisaReven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>seen through the eyes of Molly Hooper.<br/>we start after the fall Sherlock Holmes is Hold up in Molly Hooper's flat awaiting his removal to break Moriarty's network.<br/>"you do count" is his only thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to leave comments!   
> criticism are always useful!   
> cheers

** Cha ** ** pter one **

 

Molly walked through her apartment door, dropping her handbag to the floor and letting out a long sigh. A dark shadow came over her and even with her eyes shut she knew the man in front of her.

“That was the hardest thing I have ever had to do,” she pulled off her coat, hanging it to the empty peg before moving into the living room and slumping into a chair. She was dressed all in black, “the funeral of Sherlock Holmes.” Molly’s companion sat down on the chair opposite.

“Surprising how many people cried, actually cried proper sad tears. Even I did.” She scoffed at herself feeling the strain of the day on her shoulders. The man got back to his feet and moved to the kitchen collecting a bottle of wine and a glass. He poured it out and handed the glass to Molly. The pathologist took the wine, though she furrowed her brow in confusion.

“You looked tense, is not customary for you to have a drink when you feel this way, it is evident from the empty bottles in your kitchen.”

“Don’t deduce me Sherlock, not today, not when I had to stand there with all of those people and pretend.” Molly broke herself off, took a large gulp of the wine and stood up.

Behind her Sherlock stared blankly.

“He was so sad, he. . .  I didn’t know what to say to him and I’m sure he knew I was lying to him,” she pun round to look at him, “john is devastated, he is broken, and you don’t care do you?”

Sherlock Holmes opened his mouth, closed it again; gulped down his pride and opened it again.

“I do care, that is why I did this, you know that Molly Hooper.”

Molly shook her head leaving the room. She went over to her bedroom and started to undress taking off the small woollen cardigan from her shoulders and slinging it into the washing hamper. She then kicked off her shoes close to the wardrobe.

“Your frame is different when you wear high heels, Doctor Hooper.”

Molly jumped and let out a small squeak on hearing his voice.

“What are you doing Sherlock? This is my bedroom.”

Sherlock took no notice of her distain and strolled across the room turning her round so she no longer faced him. His hands came up to her head and began to remove the pins from her hair. Molly felt suddenly exposed to the consulting detective, though she made attempt to resist him. Slowly Sherlock took down Molly’s long hair and brushed it straight with his fingers. When he had finished Sherlock used his slim fingertips to remove Molly’s earrings and the simple silver chain she had worn. He dropped the jewellery on to the dressing table as molly turned round to him. Sherlock’s face was full of confusion and he wasn’t trying to hide it.

“I know you are sorry about doing it to him, but he would understand you know, why you had to. You could tell him.”

“It is safer for him for the time being, trust me.”

Molly didn’t know how to answer him and so the pair stood there in silence; it felt like an hour passed when molly finally turned away. She lifted her pyjamas off the bed and went towards the door.  

“Molly?”

She turned round, a little shocked; Sherlock rarely used her first name.

“What is it?”

“You do count.”

“You said that already Sherlock, two weeks ago.”

Sherlock let out a frustrated sigh, “no you do not understand, I – you do count, but Moriarty didn’t think.”

“That is the point isn’t it? No one, I don’t count to you, which is why I count.”

A small smile danced around Sherlock’s lips. How had he always missed how smart Molly Hooper was?

“Where are you going?”

“To get changed Sherlock.” Molly stated.

“Why are you leaving the room?” Sherlock seemed honestly confused.

“I am not changing in front of you. Don’t look at me like that, Sherlock, you might not have intentions towards any woman alive but I am not going to undress in front of you so that you can deduce every part of me.”

Sherlock scrunched his face. “Doctor Hooper I don’t want to _deduce_ your body.” He was almost disgusted with the thought. There was nothing about Molly Hooper’s body that made him want to examine her with his intelligence. As far as he was concerned he already knew everything about the pathologist. Molly shook her head and walked out of the room shutting herself in the bathroom. She slipped out of her plain dress and pulled off the flesh coloured tights before moving over to the sink. Closing her eyes molly put her hands on the side of the sink and breathed in deeply.  She turned on the tap and looked into the mirror. Her eyes had slight red rings around them where she had allowed herself to cry at the fake funeral earlier that day. She hadn’t enjoyed lying to her friends, though the appearance of Mycroft made a difference. She was sure that someone would have noticed his odd interest in the pathologist. They had barely ever spoken before the day Sherlock faked his own death. Sherlock’s brother arrived with the coffin and kept himself quiet throughout the service. It was at the wake at 221B Baker Street that he approached Molly. The pair had moved into a quieter spot where Mycroft inquired about his brother. They spoke for a few minutes and once again when Mycroft was leaving, he sought her out to say goodbye. An action that made Molly shudder when she thought about it. The sink filling over its capacity pulled Molly back into the room. She turned off the faucet, tied her back into a pony tail and splashed the warm water on her face. Molly hadn’t worn makeup to the funeral, knowing that she would be crying.

“Molly Hooper, I do not understand.” Sherlock’s voice came through the door, and Molly sighed. A few months ago she would have done anything to be locked in her flat alone with Sherlock Holmes yet now she was living it Molly hated it.

“Sherlock leave me alone for five minutes, or better yet thirty minutes!” she heard him move away from the bathroom door. When Sherlock had come to her at Bart’s hospital and requested her assistance on helping him die Molly had thought she was in for a bit of adventure, but so far she had become a babysitter. Babysitter to the most annoying needy child on the face of the earth. Molly turned her attention to herself, washing off the grime of the day and brushing her teeth.  She decided she would have a shower in the morning. Somehow Molly hand managed to wangle a month off work and so had barely left the flat since the day Sherlock jumped from the roof. Molly was sure it had been Mycroft who had sorted it with her bosses, though she wouldn’t admit it to him.

When Molly had got into her oversized flannel pyjamas she left the bathroom going back to her bedroom. The doctor dropped her dress into the hamper realising that she would soon have to do some washing. She could hear Sherlock moving back from the living room and she let out a small sigh.

“You are very frustrated?”

“What gave it away? No, don’t answer that actually, I can’t deal with it right now.” Molly dropped onto the side of the bed looking down at her knees. She knew there was no chance of an early night with Sherlock living with her.

He was next to her in moments. “I do not understand why he thought you were not important to me.”

Molly looked at him, moving her lips to show how many questions were running through her mind.

“He chose, John, obvious my partner in a way, when working on a case. Mrs Hudson obvious, my land lady an old friend-”

“The only person you have ever shown affection for in public.” Molly interrupted.

Sherlock squared his jaw but continued, “lestrade not so obvious, but this leads me to you. He was the police department, he got me cases but he is no different to my use of a pathologist within my cases.”

“You flatter me.”

“Sarcasm? But Molly I showed you affection last Christmas.”

Molly let out a laugh that took Sherlock back slightly. “You hardly showed me affection Sherlock, you insulted me in every way you could think of. You were cruel, you wanted to embarrass me, with every fibre of your being in that moment. You were cruel.” Even Molly was a bit shocked at her own outburst. She stood up from the bed and moved back to the dressing table, whipping a tear from her eye as she went. Sherlock stood up and followed her. He walked up behind her and pulled the tie from her hair.

“I am sorry, I did not; I was . . . I do not have an excuse.”

There was a pull inside Molly’s mind that wanted to fall back and lean into Sherlock, to put all of her weight into his warm body. But Molly knew she could not, there was nothing in the body behind her that would give her any comfort.

Molly felt Sherlock retreat from her and leave the room. She closed her eyes tight and tried to hold back the tears that were fighting to get out. Finally alone again she climbed in to her bed, her cat Toby jumped up next to her and nestled himself in the curl of her legs. With every part of her Molly wanted to go to sleep but sleep would not come. Reluctantly she tiptoed out and into the kitchen. Hoping she would escape Sherlock’s interest she poured a glass of water and sipped it standing at the sink. Now her own curiosity took over her. 

“Why would a pathologist be important to you?”

Sherlock looked up to her; he was sitting on the sofa his hands brought up, fingers touching his lips.  Molly moved over and sat down next to him.

“Go on, Jim only found me useful to get close to you, he knew he would meet you that way.”

“Molly you are a very smart woman, you are high in your profession, yet you seem to have no logic to your choice in companions.”

Molly huffed. “Resorting to more cruelty to make yourself feel better? I honestly do not know why I even care.” Molly got back up and went to leave, but Sherlock grabbed her wrist.

“Molly I am not equipped to- molly please sit down. I will pour us some wine.”

“I don’t want wine Sherlock.” Molly’s eyes were closed tight and her body had stiffened with his touch.

“Sherlock what are you going to do? Now you are dead I mean? You can’t stay here forever.”

“Of course not, I have to take down the rest of Moriarty’s network.” Sherlock had not removed his hand from Molly’s wrist, and though it was tight molly didn’t want him to let go.

“Ok, when?”

“Do you want me to leave? Am I so disagreeable to you now?”

“Sherlock I just, I will have to go back to work soon and I,” she licked her lips trying to understand what she wanted to say. She slid down to the sofa once more turning to him. “I suppose our relationship will change again when that happens.”

“Our relationship?” Sherlock turned to her, his face was so close to hers Molly could feel his breath on her face. “We are no different than before are we?”

“Yes we are Sherlock, I have been with you every day for the last two weeks, and I know things about you know. I see you Sherlock Holmes.”

Intrigued Sherlock smiled shifting his whole body to face molly. “What do you see Doctor Hooper?”

“I see you, I see all the sides of you. The man who is cold, uncaring towards human beings. I see the man who follows etiquette when it is appropriate to do so. You are stiff and calculating, you do not make a single move unless you have thought out every outcome and possibility. And then there is the man who loves, you love Mrs Hudson, and you love John.”

“John and I are not lovers.” Sherlock spat out the words, it was the first time the doctor had not been there to defend them first.

“That isn’t what I mean.” Molly took in a deep breath, frightened of what she was saying, “You love john like, well more than a brother, more than family. You died for him. You are cruel to so many but you sacrificed yourself for him. I see a man who is just a frightened child, hurt by the actions of mindless bullies.”

Sherlock’s shoulders had sunk as he listened to her and his grasp on her wrist had loosened.

“You want so much for everyone to think you are brilliant. You have the best mind of any man and yet you are so blind to the people who love you.” Molly slipped her arm right out of his hand and stood up walking to the door with confidence.

“You love me.”

She wasn’t sure if he was asking or stating, but she stopped in the door way waiting for a follow up insult.

When one didn’t come she went back to her bed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock struggles with his sentiment

** Chapter two **

 

Sherlock didn’t speak to Molly much over the next few days. She didn’t mind too much it was a change to the constant babble she had listened to prior to that. Molly had just returned from doing the shopping and saw Sherlock in his usual place curled up on the sofa. She grinned to herself and dropped the plastic bags on to the table in the kitchen. There wasn’t much to be put away, Molly wasn’t someone who often prepared food from scratch, working at Bart’s she meant she was usually home late and couldn’t be bothered. Though since being home so much she had realised how bad her diet was. Of course she didn’t need to feed Sherlock very much and she was grateful for that as he hadn’t paid for anything in the three weeks he had been there. To Molly the most important things on the four bags were the three bottles of wine. Molly was not a large drinker though she enjoyed a glass in the evening, especially when work had been hard. She turned round to put them in the bottom cupboard and grumbled under her breath. There should have been another two bottles in there but they were missing.

Well not missing. She stomped into the living room and looked down beside the sofa, one bottle was empty and the other was not far behind.

“Sherlock Holmes, you do not have the right to drink and eat whatever you fancy in this house!” molly was shouting at the detective.

Sherlock spun round and fell from the sofa, his shook his head as he stood up.

“What’s wrong?” he looked down at Molly who was marching towards him.

“What’s wrong? Sherlock you drank my wine.” She threw her arm out towards the bottles.

“I don’t see the problem you have no doubt just brought another three.”

“Sherlock, you are living here for free and eating the food for free, using my electric for free. Do have no idea how much I am paying to keep you?”

“Nothing at all.” Sherlock’s voice was low.

Molly looked at him confused.

“You have not checked your bank account all this time?” she didn’t answer him, “I placed a fast amount of money into your account to provide more than enough comfort whilst I reside here.”

Molly sunk into herself slightly, “oh.” Was all she could squeeze out.

Sherlock looked at Molly for a moment, then spun round and poured out two glasses of wine. He handed one to Molly and sipped from the other. Molly gulped a large mouthful down.

“Sit down Molly.”

In a slight daze Molly moved to the sofa and sat down, with Sherlock close to her.

“I need to talk to you, Molly. I have to tell you something.”

“To a ‘normal’ person that would mean you were breaking up with Me.” she laughed. Sherlock looked at Molly, looked into her eyes.

“I am going to have to leave you next week. There is a break in the case, I can finally begin to bring them down.”

“Ok, I have to go back to work next week anyway.”

“No Molly you do not understand I-” he seemed to be struggling with the conversation. “I have had a fair bit to drink this evening, but I am sure you are aware that it would take a lot more to affect me, to impair my judgement.”

Molly nodded, staying quiet intrigued as to where this was going.

“Molly I have been struggling with something for some time now. When we first met you stumbled over your words, you were mousey and annoying.”

“Slow down with the praise.”

“Molly, just listen, the things about you that I first found to be annoyances quickly became endearing to me. I enjoyed it when you stammered because as soon as we started talking about a body you were fluent and perfect at your job. There is no other pathologist whose opinion would matter over yours. There are many things about me that I can control but my admiration for you Molly Hooper is one that I cannot.” Sherlock took in a long breath considering his next words carefully.

“I am not . . . this is not my area of expertise but I have realised that those times when I was agitated by your presence was my own problem. I was _cruel_ as you put it to you last Christmas because of my own inadequacy.” 

Molly was taking several gulps of her wine as Sherlock spoke.

“Being here with you I have come to a realisation. It was difficult to leave John, to lie to him he is my friend. There was an attachment to _the woman_ that intrigued me no further than her ability to control the mind of almost everyone she came in contact with.”

Molly was hoping he was going to reach the point quickly.

“I have for some time now been aware of my, well my feelings towards you. You told me that you didn’t count and the words stung me in a way I was not used to. Molly I want to try something that I have never done before. I want to try it with you.”

Molly’s mind was racing now.

“Would you agree to it?” Sherlock waited for her to answer. Molly took another large gulp of her wine, emptying the glass.

“Sherlock, three weeks ago I killed you, I don’t think there is much more I can do for you.”

Sherlock licked his lips, taking Molly’s glass from her and placing it on the table. He reached around to the back of her head and removed the tie from her hair and smoothed out the plate. Molly didn’t say anything as she watched him, looking into his face. His hands did not leave her, Sherlock placed one each side of her face.

“Close your eyes Molly I read that it is better that way.”

Molly didn’t know what to think but she closed her eyes. If she was honest to herself Molly would have said she thought Sherlock was about to kill her; to understand how it felt. She braced herself. Then, two warm soft lips pressed against hers. Sherlock moved her closer to him, using his own lips to part Molly’s.

Molly jumped and pulled back opening her eyes. “What are you?”

“Did I do it wrong?”

Molly shook her head. “No I um.” Her voice high pitched as she sat there, her head still held between the long fingers.

“Was it right? Did I do it right?”

Molly couldn’t really say either way, she had been so shocked by the act she hadn’t remembered to recall it. Like a cat in headlights Molly stared at Sherlock, her mouth open slightly but unable to say anything. Sherlock moved his head around looking into her face trying to gage her reaction.

“Molly I need you to say something, I cannot, this is frustrating Molly.”

“Why?” was all she could mutter, it was hard to speak with his hands on her face.

“I want to do it again, but I cannot tell if you want to. Do you want to?”

“yes.” Molly did want to every part of her wanted to kiss him and wrap herself around that man. She took hold of his hands and pulled them down from her face. Sherlock allowed her place them after all she had had more experience with kissing than he did. He put one hand on her waste and entwined her fingers with his on the other. With her free hand she took hold on Sherlock at the nap of his neck and pulled him in closer to her as she leaned forward. Sherlock’s eyes closed as they pressed their lips together.  

He could smell the strawberry shampoo from Molly’s hair and he liked it. As they kissed Sherlock felt something deep inside him, the hand that was on Molly’s waste slid up to her back pulling her closer to him. In one swift movement Sherlock lifted Molly onto his lap to quickly for her to protest. He had removed his hand from hers and wrapped it around her to her back with the other one. Molly let her hand come up and rest on his chest. She was getting lost in the kiss. So was Sherlock, something about having her tight against him and letting her move the way she was did something to Sherlock’s thoughts.

He wasn’t thinking about anything just Molly and her lips.

Molly slowly moved herself back from Sherlock and looked down to him realising she was on his lap.

“Um.”

“Um, indeed,” Sherlock was slightly breathless.

“That was a nice experiment.” Molly jumped from Sherlock’s lap and darted down the hall to her bedroom. She shut the door behind her and slinked down behind the bed. The pathologist had imagined her first kisses with Sherlock Holmes a million times in her mind but nothing she had imagined had lived up to what had just happened. Behind her the door opened and Sherlock walked in. he slipped down beside her.

“I don’t understand.”

Molly didn’t want him to look at her, “what?”

“You seemed to be enjoying what we just did but then you ran away, molly I want, I have this need to be close to you at this moment. I want to lie next to you in this bed and wrap my arms around you.”

There was a strange resolve in Molly’s mind as she turned her eyes to meet Sherlock’s.

“No.” his eyes widened, “you’re going to leave in a few days and I have to go back to work. I am not silly Sherlock I would never expect this to be anything more than an experiment of yours but no. I can’t do it.”

“Cannot do what? Molly why is it that you have suddenly become completely inaudible to me? I cannot read you one bit.”

“Get out of my room Sherlock.”

“Molly I don’t want-”

“Get out!”

“Molly I-”

“Please?”

That word hit Sherlock in the stomach. She had asked him to do something and though he wanted to stay there next to her, he knew it was hurting her. Sherlock swallowed hard and rose to his feet returning to the sofa. That night Sherlock slept, properly slept, deep so deep he dreamed. Sherlock dreamed of his childhood home, of walking through the door with an arm around his, a comforting arm. There was his mother and father their faces joyful at the return of their son. He stepped up to them and let his mother kiss his cheek. Sherlock’s father stooped to kiss the hand of the woman beside Sherlock. There was something glinting on her hand. A diamond, a diamond rind on her left hand. Sherlock’s father grinned at his son. “Well done Sherly, you got a good one.” The voice was echoed in the dream. Sherlock looked down at the girl beside him, her hair was down and framed her face perfectly. Of course to anyone else she looked plain but to Sherlock that woman was perfect in every way. A door slammed somewhere and Sherlock looked round for it, his eyes slowly opened and he was faced with the back of the sofa.

Sherlock peeled himself from the fabric and walked about the flat, he was looking for Molly but there was no sign of her. A small twinge of an emotion Sherlock was not used to fluttered about his chest. In any other circumstance Sherlock would have called John to discuss the matter but he couldn’t this time. There was no one Sherlock could talk to he was dead after all.

Molly didn’t return home till very late that night. She dropped her handbag on the floor and slung her coat on the peg. The doctor marched down the hall without looking into the living room and shut her bedroom door behind her. Sherlock moved to the door pressing his ear to it and listened. He could hear her moving around, she changing into her nightclothes. Was she not going to talk to him?

Sherlock returned to his place on the sofa and waited. He waited all night, the sun rose outside the window. Not wanting to miss her Sherlock went to the door and waited some more. After a while Molly came out, she was dressed and ready for work, clutching a large bag. Sherlock looked down at her.

“Are you angry with me?”

“No I am not, please excuse me I have to get to work.” Sherlock pressed his body against the wall as she walked past him and left the flat. This was how it went for the next five days, until finally Sherlock had to leave. His brother was sending a car to get him and then he would go. Of course Sherlock had not old his brother any information on what he would be doing once he left the pathologist’s home.

Molly had left even earlier that morning and there was a twinge of guilt inside Sherlock’s stomach. She had barely spent any time in flat; choosing to shower and eat at the hospital. Knowing he would not see her again before he left the ex-consulting detective sat down at the desk by the window and took out a sheet of paper. He wrote a note considering every word. Folding the paper in half he slipped into an envelope, sealed it and wrote Molly’s name on the front. Sherlock left the note on the coffee table, bending down to stroke the ears of Toby, the cat he had become accustomed to petting. With a strange sadness Sherlock left the flat and climbed into the limo outside.


	3. Chapter 3

** Chapter three **

 

Anthea was sat in the back of the limo with a mobile in her hands. She didn’t look up from it as Sherlock took his seat beside her. “Good after noon, Mister Holmes.” 

“Is it? I hadn’t taken the time to decide?”

A smile drew up on Anthea’s face. She had become accustomed to the way the Holmes men reacted to things.

“Are you enjoying being dead?” she asked with a twinge of sarcasm that did not escape Sherlock’s notice.

“Do return to pointless games, you are kidding nobody that you are actually speaking to another person all this time.”

Anthea lowered the phone smiling as she looked at Sherlock sideway.

“Irene Adler once told me that she asked you to _have_ dinner with her. Did you ever take her up on the offer?”

“Would you be jealous if I did?”

The limo pulled round a corner and stopped, Sherlock made to leave the car, when Anthea placed a hand on his thigh. She ran it up from the knee and smiled a mischievous grin. 

“We should have dinner some time Sherlock Holmes.” Anthea leant forward and pressed her lips against his. For a moment Sherlock was flooded with thoughts. She was bolder than he had first thought.  The _woman_ had never kissed him. This was not as pleasurable as his kiss with Molly. When she eventually moved back Sherlock scoffed.

“We will never have _dinner_.” With that he left the car and slammed the door behind him. There was a taxi waiting for him, Sherlock got in and it drove away.

 

 

 

Molly Hooper was not a special person, she had only one talent and that was cutting up dead people. She was not a sight that most would attune to great beauty, nor did she dress to fit the figure hiding beneath her clothes. This pathologist had no particular quirk to make her endearing, she had no faults for intrigue. Yet still with all this Molly Hooper was an enigma, because she was the one that had killed Sherlock Holmes. Yes the papers would say he had jumped from the roof but it was Molly Hooper who faked the results of the DNA tests and the autopsy. After a long hard day at work Molly Hooped found herself standing outside the door to her flat. With a deep breath she unlocked it, resolving herself to finally speaking to Sherlock once more.

With an eagerness she removed her coat and bounced into the living room. Her eyes flickered straight to the envelope on the coffee table. Toby weaved around her legs as she walked to it, sinking into the sofa.

Holding her breath, Molly picked up the note and opened it, pulling out the paper inside. She read it;

You are the one, the woman who counted.                                                        

SH

Molly Hooper let out a little sob, knowing that she never got to say goodbye to him. Quietly molly went back to her old life. She went to work every day and did it to her best ability. Every Thursday night she would meet with some friends in the pub at the end of her road and they laugh and joke with each other but inside Molly doesn’t feel the same.

A few after Sherlock’s departure from her home Molly received a call from John Watson; he wondered if they could meet up. There was panic knotting Molly’s stomach as she approached the café. John was already inside ordering a tea from the woman behind the counter, when he saw Molly he ordered another one and gestured towards a table.

“Hello Molly.” He wrapped his arms around her before they sat down.

“How are you John?”

“As good as I can be I suppose. I’ve been seeing my therapist again, it’s helping.”

“That’s good john. That’s really good.” Molly was worried he knew something more. “You haven’t written in your blog for some time.”

“I will eventually, I just need a little more time.” The cups of tea were set down in front of them as they spoke. “I’m here to talk about you Molly, we’re worried, Greg and me.”

“Worried? Why are you worried?”

“After . . . you took a long time off work and we didn’t see you, only for the-” he paused unable to say it, “you just stayed in your flat, then there was that week when you went back to work, practically lived there for six days. Molly we just want make sure you are ok.” He reached over and put his hand on her hers.

“You are so sweet John, but honestly I am fine. It was a shock for all of us.” Molly knew she was being shifty and John had been with Sherlock long enough to see the signs.

“Well you know where I am if you need to talk.”

“You moved back to 221b?”

“Oh,” John looked down to his hands, “no, I haven’t I am living with Mike at the moment.”

Molly nodded. “Ok, I’m sorry John but, I can’t stay, I have a lot to do.”

Doctor Watson nodded and said goodbye to Molly giving her a squeeze with one arm. Molly was glad to be away from him. Though she had come to think of the army doctor as a friend having to lie to him now made her nervous. Molly didn’t work well when she was nervous. Resolving to go back to her flat and wallow in her loneliness she turned down a back alley; a shortcut to her home. Molly was nervous of walking alone in London but it was midday and she knew she was basically safe. Still as she walked further away from the café molly couldn’t help but let a niggling feeling creep up on her. Every few moments she would turn back, sensing someone behind her. But there never was.

Eventually molly arrived at her door and fumbled with her keys as she panicked. Slamming the door behind her she slid the chain across and flicked the latch. She went into the living room and took out her mobile phone.

Molly looked down at the blank screen, screwing up her face. With a sigh she clicked the screen into life and went into the contact list. She scrolled down to Sherlock’s name lingering over it for a moment. She pressed the green button and it was ringing.

“Molly?” Sherlock’s voice shocked her slightly, she hadn’t expected him to answer, “What is it, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she finally spoke, “I just wanted to . . . Sherlock I just-” a loud bang from her bedroom took Molly’s attention. She moved towards it, still holding the phone to her ear.

“Molly?” Sherlock’s voice was confused, “Molly?!” she put her hand on the door handle and turned it slowly, “Molly Hooper Answer me right now! What is happening?” the door swung back and molly let out a squeak of fear, “molly? Talk to me.” a hand came up and hit Molly square in the jaw, it sent the slight girl to the floor, she dropped her phone, “Molly, are you ok?” molly scrambled to get away but she was being dragged back, Sherlock could hear the struggle. The hand came down once more and Molly’s head hit the ground. The call dropped as the man along with another one lifted the unconscious Molly into a fireman’s carry and left the flat.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> panic strikes as Molly is taken   
> Mycroft to the rescue

** Chapter four **

 

The mobile of Mycroft Holmes rang and he looked down at the caller ID.

“Brother dear, what do I owe this lovely-” Sherlock’s frantic voice cut him off, “the pathologist? What about her? Why would anyone want to . . . yes of course, I will go there myself!”

The phone clicked off, Mycroft was already moving. A man in a dull suit poked his head out of a door and called after Mycroft.

“Excuse me Mister Holmes, the meeting?”

“No time for that now, there are more pressing matter.”

 Mycroft arrived at Molly Hooper’s home in only a few minutes finding her door open. There was conclusive proof of an attack in the hall way. Mycroft knelt down and ran his finger across the wall, it had been hit hard and the plaster was cracked. The bedroom door was not right, the line on the carpet showed it usual place but now it was flush to the wall behind it. The window in the bedroom was smashed. Molly Hooper’s hand bag was on the floor but one thing was missing from the flat. Mycroft’s phone rang.

“Sherlock? I will find her, she has taken her phone with her . . . yes I figured you would have made sure of that. I was just about to locate her. Sherlock? Where are you?”

The phone call died and Mycroft left the flat, it wouldn’t take him long with his connections to find Molly’s location. Well the location of her phone at least. He was speeding through the streets in moments. He typed out a text. Mycroft felt an odd sense of urgency as he sat in the back of the car. Mycroft was not as knowledgeable as his brother with the streets of London, but he didn’t need to be the driver knew where to take him. It was getting darker and Mycroft knew he would soon be too late, this was not a random kidnapping with the hope of ransom . . . there was more behind this and it meant Molly only had a few hours to live.

 

Baker Street was strangely empty for the time of the evening.  Mycroft knew that the land lady of 221 was not present at her home, for some time he had been keeping a watchful eye on her, recording the woman’s schedule to memory, she rarely altered it.  He darted to the front door that had been left a jar. Mycroft hesitated, he had always hated leg work of any kind.

Bracing himself he entered the flat and walked up the stairs. From the movements above him he had counted four heavy men were in attendance. Why would they need so many for such a small girl? Holding his umbrella tightly Mycroft Holmes steeled himself before pushing open the door to the flat B.

“You’re not the brother I was expecting.”

Mycroft didn’t recognise the voice but her face was somewhat familiar. It didn’t take long for him to sift through his own mind palace and recall the infamous article about Richard Brook.

“Kitty Riley, isn’t it? Getting revenge for your lover?”

“We know he faked it, and we know how to get to him, your brother.” The red haired woman stood before the four men, with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Do behave yourself Miss Riley, you are hardly showing me any kind of authority, you are clearly caring out orders of another party.”

“You two must be so much fun at parties.” The reporter moved herself and Mycroft saw the shape of a small woman lying on the floor. “She might be dead, I haven’t checked for some time but the boys did do a good job on her, she gave us lots of information.”

“I am sure you will have fun finding it was all false information. Molly Hooper is not a fool.”

Kitty pulled out a gun and held it towards Mycroft.

“You Holmes boys, you truly believe you are the smartest people on earth don’t you?”

“The evidence is clear. There was once hope for our mother, but she became too burdened with sentimentality.”

Kitty was moving closer to Mycroft her gun trained on his head.

“Are you displaying anger, Miss Riley?”

“You are displaying sentimentality by being here aren’t you? Coming for her, the one moriarty forgot about.”

“You didn’t forget did you? Is that what this is a display of intelligence? You want us too swoon at your obvious smarts, please Miss Riley do grant us the doubt of some dignity.”

The anger in her face visible as she took one more step towards the man that toward above her. Mycroft swung he umbrella round and knocked the gun from kitty’s hands. In shock she tried to attack the man but he threw her to the ground, the men behind her jumped and rushed forward. They had Mycroft outnumbered and though he was able to knock one to the ground he was outmanned. They wrestled Mycroft to his knees two of them holding him there as the other stormed over to Molly. Kitty had gotten back to her feet and was holding the gun to Molly’s head as she was lifted by the large man.

Mycroft could see she was still breathing though it was slow. Mycroft hated leg work and this was one of the reasons.

“You can’t beat us Mycroft Holmes.” Kitty spat out. In that same moment a flash of a dark grey suit bolted into the room and knocked the man holding Molly to the ground. Two shots were fired and one man holding Mycroft collapsed. Panic entered the room and people began to fight. Kitty riley grabbed Molly into her arms and held the gun against her. Greg Lestrade hit her from behind as the last man was taken down by Mycroft and John Watson. Lestrade clamped a pair of cuffs onto Kitty and called in for a bit of back up to come collect the men. He then bent down and turned Molly over, he checked her for a pulse as John jumped over the furniture to them.

 

 

Sherlock Holmes stood in the hospital corridor his hands behind his back. He waited anxiously as the people who believed him dead still lingered around Molly’s bed. He had kept himself covered and wore a different coat to put them off. It worked. Turning his back to them as John and Greg walked down the corridor rendered him practically invisible to the two men. He listened to their conversation as they passed.

“I offered to take her back with me,” lestrade continued, “but she said Mycroft is going to take her back to her flat.”

“It isn’t safe for her to go back there alone.” John protested.

Sherlock smirked, as if either of them truly believed his brother would care that much about Molly Hooper. Knowing the coast was now clear Sherlock slipped into the private room. He sat down on the bed beside Molly and rested his hand on hers.

Molly’s eyes opened and she looked up at him.

“Oh. You’re here?”

Sherlock nodded, “I am.” He leant forward and planted a small, gentle kiss on molly’s lips, “I’m going to take you home.”

“But Mycroft-”

“Has ensured our safety, nobody knows I am here except you Molly.” Sherlock helped molly off the bed, he was unhappy to see the bruises that had formed on her face. There were several white stitches across the cut on her head and her arm was wrapped with a bandage.

When they arrived at the flat Molly was surprised to see the bedroom window was fixed. “Mycroft.” Sherlock announced knowing it would answer all of her questions.

“Are you tired do you want to sleep?” Sherlock asked, molly was surprised by his genuine concern.

“Can we just sit on the sofa for a bit?”

Sherlock lead the way holding on to Molly like she was unable to move by herself. He took a seat on the sofa and pulled her down so she was almost sat on him. Molly was nestled into the crook of Sherlock’s shoulder the warmth of him soothed her. Sherlock clicked on the television and changed the channel to a trashy ‘chick flick’ one he knew Molly would like.

He looked down to her and stroked the top of her head, his fingers easily worked out the tie that held her up and brushed her hair down. “hmmm.” Molly let out the contented sound and her head got heavier on his shoulder. Sherlock knew she was nearing sleep and so he resolved to tell her what he needed to say immediately.

“Molly, I am very glad that you are alive. I was worried when you called me that I would be able to have you saved in time.”

“Sherlock.” He liked the way her voice said his name.

“Molly can I kiss you again?” he had used his hand to bring her face round to face him. Molly blinked at him. She wasn’t answering him.

“Molly did you hear me?”

“Yes, yes you can.”

The corner of Sherlock’s mouth curled into a smile as he lent down and kissed molly. He wasn’t sure if it was the concussion clouding her mind or if she was imagining it, but molly was sure the kiss was more passionate. Sherlock’s hand moved down her face, brushed her shoulder moving down her arm, he found her hand and entwined their fingers. He had remembered Molly doing it before and it gave her a sense of satisfaction. The kiss lingered on and it got deeper, molly’s head was spinning. Sherlock pulled her round on to his lap, and wrapped his arms around her. Molly winced slightly from the pain but he didn’t seem to notice it.

Before Molly realised it she was being carried from the living room and laid on the bed. Sherlock’s lips had not left hers, nor did they as he removed his suit jacket and laid down beside her.  Their bodies were pressed tightly together. Molly was sure she was in a dream.

Sherlock pulled his head back a bit and looked at the girl in his arms. This was not his area of expertise but yet there was a sense of instinct about it all. Molly was panting slightly from the intensity of the kiss, her eyes were glassy and she was smiling.

“Are you ok, Molly?” she nodded. “Are you tired, would you like to leave you to sleep?”

“No!” molly tightened her grip on his shirt, pulling him back to her. Sherlock shuffled both their bodies so that Molly was lying on her back and he was above her. He ran his hand down the side of her body and then back up, skimming the side of her breast.

“Sherlock Holmes, what are you doing?” Molly said with a laugh in her voice.

Sherlock cleared his throat. “I believe I want to take our knowledge of each other further, Molly.”

Molly screwed up her face, “very romantic.”

“I am new at this Molly.”

Molly, put her hand on his face so that he was looking into her eyes, she had never seen his features so soft. “You do what feels right, Sherlock.”

He smiled at her and kissed her again, there was one advantage to knowing the chemical reactions that each touch would cause inside Molly. Sherlock knew kissing her neck would make his partner more compliant to what he wanted to do. Molly’s hands were wrapped around him, Sherlock took them and guided them round to the buttons on his shirt. Molly started undoing them as he in turn lifted her t-shirt. It slipped over her head easily and he was pleased to see the milky skin of her breasts. His shirt slid off his shoulders and Molly dropped it onto the bed behind him. Sherlock was sure of what he wanted and he glided his hands down to her hips and buttons of her jeans. Molly made no protest to him slipping them down along with her underwear. The bra was slightly more awkward to remove but he was did it quickly. Molly’s hands moved to Sherlock’s hips and stopped. Her body was still unsure of what Sherlock wanted. He stopped kissing her neck and looked at her.

“I should be removing them, yes? My trousers?” his eyes narrowed to gage her reaction.

“If you want to.”

“Intercourse would be difficult with them on.” He let out a little giggle as he said it. He stood up, off the bed, and removed his trousers. Before climbing back on to the bed. Sherlock wrapped his arms around Molly’s naked body as he laid back on the bed, she winced again with pain; he noticed it this time. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No I’m ok.”

Sherlock let Molly lay her body flat onto the bed, running his fingers down her body he separated her legs. Molly let out a whimper of pleasure, Sherlock kissed her deeper than ever.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly is confused by Sherlock's sudden affection in the aftermath of her kidnapping.

** Chapter five. **

 

Molly woke up the next morning with the sheets wrapped around her naked body, for a moment she believed it had been dream. Blinking the pathologist rolled herself over and came face to face with a sleeping Sherlock. She let out a little gasp as she looked at him. Sherlock’s eyes opened slowly and he smiled.

“Good morning Molly Hooped.” He said, his smile widening.

“Good morning.” Molly still wasn’t sure if it was real.

“Molly we should talk about what happened between us last night.” Sherlock’s voice was softer than normal. Molly sat up, pulling the sheet further around her back.

“It was an experiment, I know.” She couldn’t look at him.

Sherlock sat up behind her, putting a hand on her shoulder. Molly could feel his bare chest pressing against her back, “that is not what I mean.” His hand slipped round her front to the other shoulder and turned Molly round to him, “why do you keep saying that?”

“Sherlock, you do not . . . you said that you don’t . . . I understand that it was just sex for you.”

“Molly you are right, I have never found the need or want to take part in . . .” he furrowed his brow trying to find his words, “but you Molly when you told me that you thought you didn’t count, I was . . . . It hurt me in a way I had never thought I would feel pain.”

Molly moved her body curling her legs beneath her.

“I wanted you to know that you do count, you are important to me, not just as a pathologist or a thing I can use when it’s suitable.”

“You came to me when you needed help; that was all I needed.”

“Molly Hooper you are brilliant but you are stupid, do you not understand? You are the one woman I have chosen to give myself to. I have never taken part in sexual pleasures nor do I suppose I will ever want another partner, but I gave it to you Molly because you _do_ count to me.” Sherlock’s hands were holding Molly’s shoulders and his eyes were level with hers. The sheet was no longer covering him and Molly could see all of him. She didn’t know how to answer him so she nodded her head.

Sherlock flipped round and kicked his legs over the edge of the bed. He picked up his trousers and pulled them up. Molly got up holding the sheet around her and moving to the shower. She stopped at the door and turned back to him.

“How long are you staying?”

“I want to stay until you are better, if that is agreeable to you.” Molly nodded feeling her face flush. She went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror seeing the bruises on her face. She had almost forgotten about them. The shower was warm on her cold skin. The water swept down over her head and down her back. Molly turned round and closed her eyes letting all her aches and pains relax under the heat. A hand drew back the curtain and ran down her back. Molly jumped, let out a squeak and spun round. Sherlock’s eyes met hers and she could see the lust in them. He looked her body down moving into the shower with her.

“Sherlock I . . . um” he brought a finger up to her lips and shushed her. Sherlock replaced the finger with his lips and wrapped his hands around Molly’s waste.  The water ran over the two of them as they kissed. Molly put her hands up into Sherlock’s hair and tangled her fingers around the curls. Sherlock showed his enjoyment of the action by pressing his body tighter against hers. Molly’s mind spun as they kissed.

Sherlock pulled his head back and looked at Molly.

“What is it about you that makes me feel this, Molly?” he didn’t wait for an answer from the doctor but lifted her up in to his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist.

“Sherlock I have to get ready for work.”

“No you don’t, you were attacked yesterday you have the week off.” Sherlock’s lips moved down to Molly’s neck, she let out a whimper of enjoyment. Sherlock reciprocated the enjoyment and Molly felt it.

A knock at the door interrupted the pair and Sherlock let out a low growl from his throat.

“Ignore it they will go away.” He kissed Molly again.

The knocking didn’t stop, it got harder. And Greg Lestrade’s voice came through hit.

“Molly?”

Molly pulled herself back from Sherlock, “he won’t go?” begrudgingly Sherlock put Molly down and slipped back into the bedroom closing the door behind him. The Pathologist covered herself with a towel and went to the door.

“Hello Greg.”

The detective’s eyes widened when he saw her, “oh I’m sorry I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s fine, what’s up?” molly asked as she moved aside for him to enter the flat. Greg walked in and went to the living room. It wasn’t the first time he had been in the flat.

“I just wanted to make sure you were ok. We need to take your statement about what happened and I figured it would be easier for you if I came here.”  Molly nodded.

“Ok, I’ll um go get dressed.”

Greg nodded and turned his attention to the television he clicked on with the remote. Molly closed her bedroom door behind her and looked at Sherlock. He had laid out some underwear, a baggy t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants on the bed.

“You should wear this.” He whispered sitting down beside the clothes. Molly didn’t argue, she knew there wasn’t time. She slipped the knickers on under the towel and then added the white bra before dropping the towel. Once she had dressed she went to the dresser and started dragging her hair up, Sherlock jumped over to her and grabbed her hands.

“Don’t you look better with it down . . . on second thought put it up, I don’t want him starring at you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You can’t say you haven’t noticed the way the inspector looks at you?”

Molly scoffed at Sherlock and tied her hair into a ponytail. She went to the door but Sherlock grabbed her before she could leave. He planted another kiss on her lips.

“Give your statement quickly Molly Hooper, I want you to myself again.” Molly pushed him off her and left the room. Taking a quick breath to compose herself. She sat down next to Greg and he turned off the television.

“What do you know about yesterday, Molly?”

“Not much, I got home from seeing John and well I felt like I was being followed when I was walking home, I got it and I phone Sh- Mycroft Holmes.” She hoped that Greg hadn’t caught her slip, “then there was a noise in the bedroom and the next thing I know I was being attacked. I woke up in hospital.”

Greg sat for a moment writing down what Molly had said. He stopped and took a deep breath.

“Molly the people that took you, it was Kitty Riley.”

“The reporter?”

“Yes but it seemed that she wasn’t just a reporter, she had been hired by Moriarty to take out everyone that helped Sherlock.”

“But I don’t know anything about what happened.”

“Molly, I think they are targeting people they believe to have been close to Sherlock, I don’t want you to worry we’ve got protection for you.”

“Protection? I-I don’t need-”

“It’s ok, Mycroft Holmes is using his agents, and you won’t be disturbed by them.” Greg screwed up his face as he looked at her. His hand came up to her face and cradled around her jaw and one of the bruises, “I’m so sorry you’ve ended up involved in all this Molly.”

Molly removed his hand from her face, “I’ll be ok, Moriarty is dead and his network is going to be bought down so I’ll fine.”

“What do you mean his network will be brought down?” his eyes were probing her face.

“Well, Mycroft he will do it right? He has the resources and with Jim dead I just figured he would be able to fix everything.”

“Yeah,” Greg laughed, “I suppose he will.” Greg stood up and the pair moved towards the door. He turned back to molly and kissed her cheek, “I’ll come back and check on you soon.”

“Oh there’s no need. I’ll be fine, I’ll call you if I need anything. I promise.”

“All right.”

Molly shit the door behind him and let out a breath of relief. Sherlock was leaning against the door frame of her bedroom. He was smiling and was wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist. Molly didn’t look at him, her head was pounding and her body was aching more than ever. She slumped down on the sofa and rested her head back her eyes closed. Sherlock sat down next to her and pulled the tie from her hair and pulled the pathologist closer to him. Molly complied too his actions and relaxed into his chest. Sherlock ran his fingers through Molly’s hair.

“You did very well, molly, with the inspector.”

“Thank you.” She spoke in a whisper trying not to aggravate the head ache forming.

“Molly why did you call me yesterday?”

“oh.” The question jolted Molly back into the room, she sat up moving away from his body.

“I suppose I just wanted to, I mean . . . I wanted to hear your voice.” She moved forward, perching herself on the edge of the sofa, “I had been with John, I don’t like lying to him and I just wanted a reason to keep doing it. If I wasn’t talking to you then I didn’t know what the point was to it all.”

Sherlock moved closer to her. “I am sorry Molly, when I go away again there will not be much time for me to speak to you. I have to keep myself hidden as much as possible. You do understand that don’t you?”

Molly nodded.

“I will try and _check in_ as lestrade puts it as often as I am able to.”

Molly turned her head to look at him, she lent in and laid a kiss on Sherlock’s lips. It was the gentlest kiss the pair had shared and it lasted only a few moments. Molly had hoped that the kiss would tell Sherlock everything she wanted to say and so she would not have to verbalise it.

Sherlock looked at molly and they stayed there quiet for a few moments. Then without warning Sherlock picked Molly up and swept her into the bedroom. He sat down on the bed and lowered her onto his lap. He was kissing her and running his hands through her hair. Molly mimicked his actions and wrapped her fingers between his curls.

 

 

Days past in the same way for molly and Sherlock and she was quickly becoming accustomed to the affection he was showing her. The aches and pains of the attack were slowly waning and Molly was dreading her return to work. Feeling a little sad Molly walked into the kitchen and flicked on the kettle. Sherlock was sitting on the sofa his hands pressed to his lips. Molly could see he was deep in thought and knew from talking to John she shouldn’t disturb him whilst he was like it. Trying to be as quiet as she could, pouring milk into her own tea and dropping two spoonful’s of sugar into the black coffee. Almost on tiptoes Molly placed the coffee on the table in front of Sherlock and went back to the kitchen. She sat down at the table and opened her laptop. For the first time in over a year Molly decided to check her blog. She felt almost ashamed to look at it, the stark pink of the background and the several pictures of cats that she had dotted around the pages. Her last blog opened and her heart sank. Jim Moriarty was the last person to comment. Scowling at the page Molly made a decision and deleted the blog. She didn’t want any reminder of how stupid she had been by trusting a man like that. Molly slammed her laptop down and turned away from the table. She let out a high pitched noise when she saw Sherlock at the door of the kitchen. He walked over to her and knelt down.

“I have to leave.” There was anguish in his voice.

“I know.” She answered trying to hide the hurt it caused her.

“Molly Hooper you have been very hospitable to me and I am grateful for that.”  He was holding her hands in his own, “I believe it is customary for a man to act a certain way towards the woman he has had intercourse with.”

Molly pulled her hands away from him and stood up, turning away from Sherlock.

“You don’t have to do this,” she took in a long breath, “I said before that I knew what this was.”

“I don’t think you do, Molly. I am married to my work and have to do my work.”

“I only want one thing from you Sherlock,” she turned to face him, “you stay in contact, you promised me that you would check in with me. Not every day but when you can, you call me or you text me and you let me know you are ok. You answer your phone if I call you, i-if you can I mean.”

“That is technically two things you have asked me.”

“Don’t be yourself Sherlock.” Molly could feel her resolve breaking as they were talking. Sherlock walked up to her.

“I promise I will let you know that I am alive whenever I can, and if you call and I am able I will answer you.”

Molly nodded in silence.

“You are returning to work tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“Then this will be our last night together. Molly Hooper will you come to bed with me?”

Molly agreed letting him left her up against his slim body and take in her into the bedroom. The sex between them had been intense before, Sherlock had explored every part of her body; he had been finding his way through it using his analytical knowledge. But this time it was gentle and sweet. Sherlock held her close to him, one hand stayed locked with hers. His kisses were soft and caring. Molly felt as though this was his way of saying good bye to her. She tried to let her thoughts drift out of her mind and enjoy the moment she was in. she knew that though it may seem like Sherlock had let go he was conducting every movement with reason and thought. It wasn’t until Sherlock locked his eyes onto hers that Molly truly fell into the moment. There was something in his look that Molly had never seen before, she couldn’t tell what it was that Sherlock was feeling but she knew she enjoyed the look. His hands were clenched tightly around her holding her thin frame tight to his.

When Molly awoke the next morning she knew instantly that Sherlock was not in the bed. His presence was missing from every room in the flat. Sinking onto the sofa Molly let out a sob into her hands.

Pushing her feelings aside she showered and dressed ready for work. Molly hesitated when pulling up her hair remembering how Sherlock had always liked it down. She shook off the memory and twisted the locks onto a bun. There was a knock at the door at the exact time Molly had planned to leave. She opened it and was faced with Anthea. 

“Mycroft sent me to take you to work.”

“Oh, you don’t need to I-I can walk.”

“I don’t think so do you?” Anthea had raised an eyebrow at the shorter woman. Molly shrugged her shoulders and followed Anthea to the limo. She was unhappy about traveling in such extravagance. Surely this would draw more attention to her than anybody wanted. St Bartholomew’s hospital seemed different to Molly as she climbed out of the Limo.  Anthea leant her head out and called after her.

“I’ll be here when you finish, Miss Hooper,” her phone pinged, “sorry, Doctor Hooper.”

Molly nodded and turned in through the doors. Her own mobile tingled with bells and she pulled it out. a smile pulled tight across her lips as she read the text.

                        ‘ _The game is on, Molly Hooper! I am safe._

_SH’_

Happiness fluttered in her stomach as she returned the phone to her bag and walked into the morgue. The other pathologist was already working on a post mortem and smiled to her as she walked past. Molly knew she would have a lot of paperwork to catch up on before she started any new bodies. With a smile she sat down at her desk and logged on.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly tries to move on with her life but Sherlock is back and they are on the case!

Chapter six.

Days turned, quickly into weeks and rolled seamlessly into months. Text’s from Sherlock grew lesser and further between. Molly stopped worrying about him knowing that it was his way. Mycroft stopped sending his car and Anthea for her to travel in and she assumed the ‘protection’ she had been given had slackened and soon ceased entirely. It didn’t bother her too much to be alone again.   
Molly went to work each day and did her job, though she had asked if she could be assigned the easier post-mortems, as few murders as she could. She didn’t want to see inspector Lestrade anymore than was necessary for the job. Every call from John Watson went unanswered. She wanted nothing to do with that part of her life. Seeing John, knowing what she knew and keeping it a secret from him broke her heart each time. It was easier for her to simply stay away. She knew he did not understand her reasons for it, but John was good enough to let molly have her way.   
Molly tried to distract herself from the way she felt by seeing her friends more and more. The girls she had attended medical school with were fun and always ready to go out on the town. There was always a gang of boys that came out with them and Molly quickly became attached to one of them. Tom was tall and slim and his cheek bones stood out. She couldn’t put her finger on the reason for her liking him but then could anyone ever say for certain.   
After a few weeks the pair started spending more time together without their other friends and Tom finally asked Molly to be his girlfriend at dinner one night. Molly giggled when she said yes.   
This time when John called Molly answered she was too happy to pay attention to the name on the caller ID.   
“Oh hi John . . . oh, is it? I hadn’t realised . . . of course, at the flat? . . . Yes John I’ll be there.” Hanging up Molly’s heart sank, how could she have been silly enough not to realise the date? It was the first anniversary of Sherlock’s death. She of course knew it had been fake but the others had not. Shed dressed for it sighing each time she looked in the mirror.   
Baker Street was too far for Molly to walk to so she ordered a cab. It was raining when she got out so she darted across the pavement as quickly as she could. The door had been left ajar with a note saying to go on up.   
There were several other people in the living room of 221B and they all greeted her when she entered. John offered to take her coat, as he hugged her tight. Mrs Hudson was the next to take hold of her, the old woman gave her a sad smile, churning Molly’s guilt inside her. She wished she could blurt out everything she knew.   
The gathering was solemn though everyone tried to cheer up the atmosphere. In turn they told stories about Sherlock Holmes and the ways they had seen glimpses of his human side. Molly panicked hoping they didn’t call on her to share. There was only one story stuck in her head of the human Sherlock and she couldn’t possible tell her friends of having sex with him.   
Their eyes all turned to her and Molly held her breath. As if fate would have it Molly’s phone tingled the sound of Bells and she jumped. Seeing the name on her phone Molly stood up excused herself from the room and went down the stairs. She opened the text.   
Not dead,   
SH  
There was suddenly anger bubbling in her that Molly had to release. She dialled the number and put the phone to her hear. It rang a few times and then Sherlock’s voice answered.   
“Are you kidding me? Nothing for months and you just say not dead do you have any idea?”   
“I told you what I was doing. Doctor Hooper I am keeping a promise I made to, I understand how you are driven by your emotions and that my promise to you is important. However you should remember what I am doing it is not possible for me to contact you on a daily basis.”   
“Shut up!” Molly was trying to keep her voice steady, “do you have any idea where I am? And you decide to send me that text now. How dare you, I was moving on, and now you. I am not sentimental about you,” tears where welling up in her eyes, “you made me a promise but I don’t want, you don’t have to keep it anymore. I don’t care.”   
“Molly?”   
“No, you have broken everything, everyone you knew, but I’m rebuilding now so just, just leave me alone.”   
Molly pressed her lips tightly together as she ended the call. A creak on the steps pulled her attention, john was looking down at her from the stairs. “You ok Molly?”   
“Yes I’m fine but I have to go, I’m sorry John.”   
Ne nodded and grabbed her coat for her. John asked if Molly wanted him to call a cab for her but she declined saying she wanted to get some air.   
The walk back through the streets of London were cold. Her coat was barely warm enough for the venture. Molly concentrated on keeping her tears back as she walked, wrapping her arms around her. She finally let go of them when she stepped through her flat door. The pillow that Sherlock had used became soaked with Molly’s tears as she cried.   
Molly didn’t get out of her bed again until Monday. She showered and dressed, tying up her hair before heading out for work. Molly Hooper resolved that she wanted nothing more to do with Sherlock Holmes. 

Two years had passed since the downfall of Sherlock Holmes and now he was back. John Watson had reacted with anger on seeing his old friend alive once more.   
Molly Hopper had finished work later than normal and walked into the locker room sighing. Her feet and legs ached from standing all day and one of her headaches were coming on. A shadow came over her as she removed her lab coat, Molly spun round her breath staggering as she saw him looking back at her.   
“You’re here?”   
“Your observation skills have improved immensely Doctor Hooper.”   
“No, you don’t get to be like that with me, Sherlock. You can’t talk to me that way.” Molly backed up against the lockers, feeling tears rise up in her eyes. She tried blink them away; she didn’t want to give him more tears.   
Sherlock stepped up to her and put a hand on her face drawing the pathologist into him and planting his lips on to hers.   
Molly’s body betrayed her and fell into his arms letting the consulting detective lift her up. She could smell his scent, the one she had become so attached to and it filled every part of her. Her hands came up around his neck and she let a whimper of enjoyment. Then logic burst her imagination.   
“no.” Sherlock drew beck slightly to look at her, “you can’t do that, put me down.”   
Sherlock did as he was told and took a few steps back from her. Molly took in a few deep breaths.   
“Does John know that you are. . .?”   
“Yes.”   
She nodded, “good, I’m glad your back,” she pressed her lips together considering her next words, “we can work together Sherlock but not that.”   
Sherlock screwed up his face, “I thought you would want me to,” he stopped when he saw Molly shaking her head, “very well, I’ll leave you to your evening.”   
Molly didn’t seem Sherlock again for a few days until her phone rang with the bells.   
Come to 221B,   
Please.   
SH   
Sucking up her pride molly went. She saw Sherlock standing at the window as she crossed the street. Mrs Hudson let her in, they shared a few polite questions before Molly ascended the stairs. She was apprehensive on going in.   
Sherlock asked if she would like to solve crimes with him. She wondered where john was as she agreed. The day was strange for Molly, the pair went through several cases in which they didn’t leave the flat. Clients arrived and Sherlock quickly deduced them. It was a call from Lestrade that took them from 221B and across town to the dank basement. A skeleton had been set up at a desk. Molly moved over to it and quickly discovered how old it was. She paused for a moment wondering if Sherlock was ok for her to do it. he seemed happy for her to answer some of the questions, though there was a reaction that Molly didn’t understand. He was telling someone to shut up, molly and Lestrade showed their concern on their faces. Sherlock was quick to tell them that the crime scene was a fake. This was not Jack the Ripper as the basic evidence would suggest. He left the basement.   
“Is he ok?” lestrade asked.   
Molly shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t know.” She followed Sherlock out and they were soon on to something else. The pair had come to a young man’s flat, he worked on the tube and was an avid train enthusiast; just looking around his living room told everyone that. He showed Sherlock a video of a train leaving one station with a passenger and arriving at the next without him.   
Molly guessed Sherlock must have delved into his mind palace because he was looking Blankley into the air paying no attention to the people around him. When he finally opened his eyes and looked down at Molly they were stood on a stair case.   
“I’m going to need map, – lots of maps, older maps, all the maps.” He drew in a breath, “fancy some chips?”   
“What?” Molly wasn’t sure how they came to that thought.   
“I know a fantastic fish shop just off the Marylebone Road. The owner always gives me extra portions.”  
“Did you get him off a murder charge?” Molly asked.  
“No, I helped him put up some shelves.”   
Molly giggled and the sound brought a smile to Sherlock’s mouth.  
“Sherlock?” molly stopped him from walking out the door.   
“Hmm?” he turned back to her.   
“What was today about?”   
“Saying thank you.” He furrowed his brow and tilted his head towards her.   
“For what?” she genuinely confused.   
“Everything you did for me.”  
“It’s okay.” She went towards the door but turned back as she spoke “It was my pleasure.”  
“No, I mean it.” Sherlock squared his jaw, she wasn’t understanding him.   
“I don’t mean “pleasure”. I mean, I didn’t mind. I wanted to.” Her stammering was endearing to Sherlock.   
He stepped closer to her, “Moriarty slipped up. He made a mistake. Because the one person he thought didn’t matter at all to me was the one person that mattered the most. You made it all possible” he drew in a breath, “But you can’t do this again, can you?”  
Molly smiled, there was a chocking in her voice; “I had a lovely day. I’d love to – I just ... um ...” she looked down to her hands. Sherlock followed her gaze.   
“Oh, congratulations, by the way.” His face was hard again as he looked at the diamond, solitaire engagement ring on her finger.   
“He’s not from work.” Sherlock smiled remembering the time he had told her not to choose a life mate from work. “We met through friends, the old-fashioned way. He’s nice. We ... he’s got a dog ... we-we go to the pub on weekends and he ... I’ve met his mum and dad and his friends and all his family and I’ve no idea why I’m telling you this.”  
“I hope you’ll be very happy, Molly Hooper. You deserve it. After all, not all the men you fall for can turn out to be sociopaths!” he said it with a smile   
“No?” she knew he was joking with her.   
“No.” Sherlock moved closer to her again, letting his lips curl up into one of his beautiful smiles. Leaning in to her he kissed the side of her face. Molly closed her eyes holding ion to her breath as Sherlock turned and walked out of the building.   
“Maybe it’s just my type.” Molly said to herself watching his back as he walked down the path. Pulling on her gloves Molly turned in the opposite direction and walked home again. She let herself release a few tears as she walked.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wedding, A murder and the devil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some spoilers from season 3 if you haven't seen it yet.

** Chapter seven. **

  
Molly bit down on her bottom lip when the post arrived, the little ivory envelope was full of excitement. She opened it and looked down at the invitation,

_You are invited to the wedding of Mary Elizabeth Mortsan and Doctor John Hamish Watson!_

Molly let out a squeak and danced into the living room of her flat, Tom was sitting on the sofa and she quickly told him about the invite.

The wedding day seemed to spring up on her and she was suddenly dressing in the yellow outfit she had chosen for it.

The ceremony was lovely and Molly watched as Mary walked down the aisle, her dress was beautiful and fitted her perfectly. Yet Molly couldn’t help but let her eyes wonder to Sherlock Holmes. She was of course used to seeing him in a suit, the man rarely wore anything else. Yet as he stood there a smile drawn broadly across his face, he wasn’t looking at the bride either. Sherlock was watching his best friend, seeing him so happy was giving Sherlock a sense of pride. Molly enjoyed seeing him like it.

Sherlock kept that smile going, through the pictures and then through his strange and long winded speech that ended up with him and John preventing a murder. Apparently he couldn’t go anywhere without having a case. Molly still felt embarrassed by her Fiancée’s horrible deduction of the invisible killer. And then later when he suggested that Sherlock was drunk molly had dug a fork into his hand. She was quickly becoming more agitated with her fiancée. Not to mention the stab of jealousy molly felt each time the bridesmaid spoke to Sherlock. From what she could see molly was sure Sherlock was flirting with the girl.

Sherlock played a concerto he had composed on his violin for the first dance. While everyone was watching the newly married couple Molly took her chance to glance up at her consulting detective. He looked perfectly at ease with the violin tucked under his chin. The dancing quickly started when Sherlock accidently let sleep a deduction of Mary being pregnant.

As everyone was moving around him Sherlock quickly realised that he was out of his comfort zone. The bridesmaid he had thought was attracted to him was dancing with someone else. That was when Molly saw it; she had seen the look once before and it she wished she hadn’t seen it. Trying to put it down to her own imagination she carried on dancing with her fiancée. Sherlock left the wedding; neither saw each other again for some time.

 

 

John had brought Sherlock into the lab and asked Molly to complete a drugs test on Sherlock. He was wearing a track suit and trainers, his hair was matted and untidy. He lent against the central bench sulking. Molly takes off her gloves with two loud snaps.

“Well? Is he clean?” John asked annoyance in every word. Molly threw her gloves down and turned to Sherlock, “clean?” She walked over to him, then slapped him hard around the face with her right hand. Everyone in the room looked over to them in surprise. Molly slapped him again just as hard and then, for good measure, slapped him again with her left hand. Sherlock blinks and grimaces.

“How _dare_ you throw away the beautiful gifts you were born with?” _She glances briefly towards John and then looks back at Sherlock. Her anger was bubbling over, “_ And how _dare_ you betray the love of your friends? Say you’re sorry.”

Sherlock held his face and felt the pain of the slap, “Sorry your engagement’s over – though I’m fairly grateful for the lack of a ring.” His voice was hard.

“Stop it!” Molly raised her voice again, “Just stop it.”

 _John stormed towards him, his face stern but his voice low. He was angry but his concern for Sherlock over took it. “_ If you were anywhere near this kind of thing again, you could have called, you could have talked to Me.” john Watson was more than aware of Sherlock’s abuse of drugs in his younger years.

  
Sherlock huffed, “ _Please_ do relax. This is all for a case.”

“A ca... What kind of case would need you doing this?” john’s voice broke showing his emotions.

“I might as well ask you why you’ve started cycling to work.” There was a mocking tone to his words.

“No.” john shook his head, “We’re not playing this game.” He turned and walked away from Sherlock.

 _“_ Quite recently, I’d say.” Sherlock continued, “You’re very determined about it.

“Not interested.”

The argument went on for a few more minutes everyone was getting more frustrated with Sherlock. Sherlock’s phone rang a text alert and he smiled, “excellent.” Molly was left alone in the lab having watched everyone else run out after Sherlock. Her own phone rang and she lifted it to her ear.

“No Tom, I told you it’s over . . . no it is not because Sherlock Holmes is back. Don’t . . . just don’t Tom. Leave me alone.”

Molly put the phone in her bag and went home. She didn’t want anything else to do with any of the men in her life at that moment. She shut her bathroom door and sunk into her bath.

Molly kept her phone off for the next few days nor wanting to talk to anyone but when she turned it back on there were several texts and voicemails from John and Greg. Listening to them took her breath away. Molly dashed out of her flat and ran to the emergency room. Asking at the desk she acquired Sherlock’s room and rushed up there. The door was closed molly could see through the window. There was a woman sat on the side of the bed. Molly didn’t wait to find out what was happening she remembered the girls face from the wedding. It was Janine the Bridesmaid. Molly clenched her lips together and steeled herself for a moment before heading back down to the lobby. Before leaving Molly glanced over the medical papers on Sherlock’s chart, satisfied that he would be ok she left. 

 

 

Christmas came hard for Molly that year, she was keenly aware that she would be alone. On the morning of the 25th of December Molly rose from her bed and wondered into her living room there were several presents under her tiny tree. Grinning to herself she started opening them. There was one from Mary and John; a new jumper, molly was sure Mary had picked it. It wasn’t something Molly normally wore but the soft cashmere felt great against her skin.

Mrs Hudson had given her a large box of chocolates, a pair of silver earrings, simpler than the hoops molly often wore. She was happy with them and slid the earrings into her ears. Molly then lifted up the gift from Greg, it was wrapped in paper meant for children’s gifts. She assumed he wrapped hers at the same time as his children’s and not that he thought she was a child. Inside the box there was a silk scarf. Molly pulled it out and ran the silk through her fingers. Greg always knew what made her happy. Over the last few years he had got her presents and she was always happy with them. The year before he had gotten her a new laptop. Hers had broken a few weeks earlier.

There were a few others from her brothers and their children. Her aunt and uncle had sent her a picture of her cousins and their families in a wooden frame. She laughed and placed it on the shelving unit by the window. Molly collected up the wrapping paper from the floor and went into her kitchen. She was surprised to see the large package on the table. It was wrapped in plain red paper with green and gold bow on the top. Molly stepped up to it dropping the other wrapping on the floor. Her heart was pounding as she lifted the note.

                        _To Molly Hooper_

_I am forever in your debt, you are the one woman._

_Please forgive me._

_Merry Christmas Molly Hooper_

_Goodbye_

_SH X_

Molly starred down at the note for a long time, reading and reading every word. One resonated into her mind. ‘ _Goodbye’_ she couldn’t understand why he had written that word. Why would he be saying goodbye to her. Molly slid the note into her skirt pocket and untied the bow. The paper fell off in one piece revealing an ivory box underneath. Molly lifted the lid and felt her breath leave her as she looked at the large bouquet of roses. She was sure there had to be at least two dozen of the red flowers in front of her. Tears were filling up her eyes as she bent down to smell them. There was a box at the bottom of the bouquet, molly picked up her hands shaking. Inside a Silver chain glinted, a simple silver locket was hanging on it. She took the locket from the box and opened it. She giggled to see two pictures one was of her father and the other was Sherlock.

“oh.” Realisation fell over Molly in that moment, she knew exactly what the note had meant. Molly spun round dashing across the living room to her mobile, she dialled it quickly. She held her breath as it rang.

Sherlock didn’t answer his phone and molly sank to the ground, clutching the locket in her hand she cried. Somewhere in the English country side Sherlock Holmes was with his brother, his parents and the Watsons. 

There was a plan that was playing out perfectly, and a helicopter was arriving overhead. Sherlock and John climbed into it and went to Appledore.

Magnusson had played his hand better than Sherlock and the police were hot on the Heels of the Detective. There was only one way out of the situation and Sherlock knew it. Holding the gun firmly in his hand he fired, killing the man who had plagued the lives of his friends for the past few months.  It was all Mycroft could do to stop the police form shooting his brother. The government made their judgement on Sherlock and he was ready to board a plan. Before leaving his brother’s home where he had been serving house arrest Sherlock made a call.

“Molly?”

“Sherlock.”

“I wanted to talk to you, I needed to hear your voice.”

“Sherlock, I thought you were-”

“I know, I am . . . sorry, my exile from England means that after this I cannot talk to you again for some time.”

“I know,” her voice was weak, “I want to, I just mean; I mean-”

“Molly, I was glad when your relationship with Tom ended. I know I shouldn’t tell you that but I was. I do not expect you to . . . please take care of yourself Molly. I need you.”

Molly hesitated her answer, “I will.”

Molly removed the phone from her ear, her other hand clutched around the locket. She sat down on her sofa and turned on the television. There wasn’t any real reason for her to watch it, she just wanted the back ground noise. Molly went about pottering about her kitchen tidying up what was left of her dinner.

Her attention was pulled by a voice she recognised. An ex-boyfriend. Returning to the living room Molly dropped the plate in her hand seeing Moriarty’s face flashing on the screen.

“Did you miss me?”

Molly couldn’t move, he was back!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom's temper had been hiding under the service!

** Chapter eight. **

 

Molly cleared up the plate she had smashed was taking the bin liner outside.

“Molly?”

“Oh.” She jumped, dropping the bag, “tom? Why are you here?” 

“I heard about Sherlock, I thought you might be a bit upset, so I came to bring you these.” He held out a small bunch of flowers from the local paper shop. Molly laughed and took them, inviting her ex-fiancée in for a cup of tea. Tom stood in the doorway to the kitchen, there was a different presence to him. He seemed bigger than Molly remembered, stronger. She glanced back at him as she placed the kettle on its stand. He had a smile on her face.

“That I a nice jumper, different from your usual clothes right?”

She giggled, “Yea, it was a Christmas present.”

“It’s nice, it suits you.”

“Thanks, do you want to sit down? I’ll bring the tea in.”

“Not really, I don’t want the tea either.”

Molly narrowed her eyes looking at Tom, “what do you mean?”

Tom walked forward, his smile scared Molly.

“You shouldn’t have dumped me Molly, I really liked you. I didn’t even care that you were in love with someone else.”

“Tom I told you he had nothing-”

Tom’s hand came sweeping upwards and smacked across Molly’s face. She staggered backwards, clutching her hand to the red mark forming quickly. “Tom?”

“Shut up, you can’t talk your way out of it.” tom lunged forward with his fist once more and hit molly again. He grabbed her shoulders and dragged her across the kitchen. Molly screamed and hit her balled fists on his chest. Tom threw Molly down to the floor in the living room, he pulled a rope from his coat pocket and laughed. He knelt down so his legs were either side of Molly and he yanked her hands together.

“Tom please, stop it.” molly was struggling beneath him.

Tom hit Molly again with one hand and she felt the blood fill her mouth as her lip split. Tom tied her hands together and then lifted Molly to her feet. “Walk!” he demanded. And pulled Molly along with him. Molly turned herself and brought her knee up into Tom crotch. He doubled over letting her go. Molly ran towards the door, but Tom grabbed her shoulders and slammed the pathologist face first into the wall. Molly’s head smacked hard against the plaster. Tom grabbed her up and though she struggled was able to bundle Molly into a car that was waiting outside.

Everything inside her was fighting against the man though he held her down. He had put a scarf around her mouth so that Molly couldn’t scream. The men waiting for them laughed as Tom struggled to drag Molly into the building. They didn’t offer to help him. A darkened figure was waiting for them. Tom shoved Molly to the ground and walked over to the figure.

Her hand wrapped around Tom’s face.

“I understand why you liked this one, Doctor Hooper, although the cheek bones aren’t exactly right.”

Molly looked up at the dark haired woman.

“Still he has served his purpose for both of us, hasn’t he?” Irene pulled out a gun from, though Molly couldn’t see where she had been keeping it. The shot rang out and Tom’s body fell to the ground. Molly tried to scream, tears running down her face. The woman glided across the room and knelt down in front of Molly. She took hold of her chin.

“Hello dear, my name is Irene Adler, I’m sure you have heard of me.” Irene removed the gag as she spoke.

“You were dead on my slab once.”

“Yes I was, and guess how your precious Sherlock knew it was Me.” she laughed, her red lips pulling over her white teeth. “Now what is it about you that makes Sherlock Holmes so wild?”

“Sherlock is never wild.”

“He is for you, I spent almost nine months trying to get that man to bed me and nothing, not even a flicker, but you.”

Molly opened her mouth to retort.

“No, no, no there is no need for us to fight, Doctor Hooper. Don’t worry I’m not going to kill you, not yet any way. You are good leverage. Mister Holmes will come for you.”

Irene stood up to her full height the long red dress framing her body perfectly.

“You should be asking where Moriarty is.” She called over her shoulder.

“Why should I ask, I already know he is dead. I did the autopsy.” Molly was trying to hide her fear.

“You are cleaver, no wonder he likes you, smart is the new sexy, we both agreed on that.” But those clothes, no they won’t do. You should be in something much better suited to your body. Boys!” three large men came into the room and lifted Molly to her feet. They took no care in removing her clothes but stripped her down to the white cotton underwear. Irene stepped over holding four hangers with dresses. She placed them up against Molly seemingly having a discussion wither herself. She decided on the blue one and slipped the dress onto Molly’s slight frame.

“There, perfect. Everybody should dress for their execution.”

“I thought you said you weren’t going to kill me?”

“Not until h arrives then I’m going to shoot you, just like little Tom there.”

“Why him?”

“He was an easy target really, wanted a little revenge on Sherlock Holmes for steeling the woman he loved so much. He took no time at all to break and you let him into your home without batting an eyelid.” Irene laughed again sitting Molly down onto a cold metal chair.

“Sherlock has no idea where I am, so why take me?”

Irene moved over to molly and straddled her.

“I could teach you so much,” she brushed Molly’s face with the back of her hand, “would you like me too?”

Molly turned her face away.

“I left clues for him, around your flat. I was there last night, before you returned home from work. You really should start securing your home better. It will not take him long.”

 

 

Across town Sherlock’s cab was pulling up outside Molly’s home, he was anxious to see her. His eyes narrowed on the door that had been left open.

“Molly?” there were clear signs of a fight from the moment he entered. He slowly went through each room, his anger was rising as he realised the course of events. His hand brushed over the drops of blood on the carpet. Then he saw it, one of the frames in molly’s living room was wrong. It was new, a picture of Molly’s family. Sherlock turned the frame over and saw the note attached to the back. He took the paper into his hands and read the words.

                                    _I want you to remember me as the woman who beat you._

Sherlock let out a growl and took his phone from his pocket. “

Lestrade, I need everything you have got and send them to Belgravia, number 10.” He hung up and shoved the phone is his pocket as he ran outside. The cab was still outside and he jumped into it giving directions. Sherlock sat in the car, his hands pressed against his face, he was trying to quell the shaking in his limbs. It felt like the streets were full of every car in London and no one wanted to drive over 30mphr. Sherlock couldn’t waste time in the cab any longer and leaped out. He ran as fast as he could through the streets.

Irene Adler’s home had stood supposedly empty since she had left. Everyone except Sherlock had believed she had died nearly three years ago. There was a man at the door that disappeared when he caught sight of Sherlock. The man whispered to Irene before leaving the room. Sirens were ringing out in the distance growing ever closer. Sherlock burst through the door and into the living room. Molly was sat on the sofa, still in the blue dress, her hands were bound again and the gag had been replaced. Sherlock bent down in front of her.

“It’s ok I’m here.” He started untying the gag.

“No Sherlock it’s a trap!” Molly blurted out. Blood splattered Sherlock’s face and Molly fell limp. “No!” Sherlock spun round as he stood up and faced Irene.

“I brought down the network!”

“No you think you did, Mister Holmes, have I ever told you how sexy you look when you are angry.”

“Then prepare for me to become beautiful Miss Adler.” He spat her name out like it was venom in his mouth.

“Don’t you see it yet, haven’t you worked it out. Think.”

Sherlock narrowed his gaze, he looked Irene up and down, his mind racing. “There never was a moriarty.”

“Of course there was,” Irene smiled, “he just never in charge.”

“It was you the whole time. You were running him.”

Irene nodded.

“You pulled every string, you knew he wouldn’t be able to beat me.”

“He was my favourite toy, and you had to go and break him. I should thank you, you helped kill me and so it became so much easier to run my little network. But now you’re becoming too much of an annoyance.”

“Everyone I have taken down, they were decoys.”

“Every single one.”

“Let me save Molly, she isn’t dead.”

“She will be, but don’t worry dear, you’ll be with her again soon. Neither of you are leaving here alive.”

“You are mistaken, it is you who will not leave her alive.”

“And how are you going to stop me? I have the gun, it’s your gun in fact, I took it from your pocket as you entered. I do so love to misbehave.”

“So what is next, once you have killed me?”

“I’m going to take over the world of course. Please don’t try to distract me, dear, it won’t help you.”

Irene was circling the room holding the gun up pointing at Sherlock. He looked down at Molly her hands were still tied, and her shoulder was bleeding from the gunshot. Not wanting to talk to Irene any longer Sherlock knelt down and took Molly into his arms. Her eyes flickered open and looked up to him.

“I’m going to get us out.” she nodded to him believing every word. Sherlock stood back up holding Molly in his arms. He walked towards the door.

“What do you think you are doing?”

“Leaving.”

“I haven’t given you permission to leave.” Irene’s voice betrayed her and showed her anger. Sherlock didn’t stop. The _woman_ fired the gun and the bullet ripped into Sherlock’s leg. He fell to the ground dropping Molly. She let a scream of pain.

“I told you it wasn’t your time to leave!”

Irene swept across the room, lifting a bottle off the mantel piece. She crouched down next to Sherlock and held up the bottle.

“Do recognise these? You do don’t you, how about you find out if you had beaten the cabby?”

“I have no reason to take any pills.”

“What’s wrong Mister Holmes don’t you want to play the game?”

Sherlock mustered his strength and slapped Irene around the face. She fell backwards from the shock and Sherlock tried to reach for Molly. He didn’t get close to her because Irene had a length of material wrapped around his neck and was pulling it tight. He struggled against her but her knee in his back was hindering his movement. The sirens were pulling up outside the house but Irene took no notice of them. She was angry and the anger was clouding her mind. She pulled tighter on the material and relished the sound of Sherlock chocking. Her other foot moved and pressed on to the hole in his leg. Sherlock let out a gargled shout, clutching both hands at the material. There was another shot and Irene slumped forward. Her body hit the back of Sherlock before sliding to the ground. She wasn’t dead but blood was pouring from her stomach and mouth.

Sherlock couldn’t bring himself to worry about the _woman_ he caught his breath quickly and slid across the floor to Molly. He lifted her up but her eyes were closed.

“Molly? Come on Molly be alive.”

Policemen were swarming the building and rushed into the living room. Lestrade and John Watson dropped to their knees next to Sherlock. John tried to pull Molly from his arms but consulting detective was not letting up on his grip.

“Let me check her pulse!” john demanded. Sherlock shifted so the doctor could reach her better. He put one hand on her neck and took hold of her wrist with the other. “She’s alive.”

“Oh thank god!” Greg let out a sigh of relief. “There is an ambulance outside get her to hospital.” Sherlock tried to stand but the wound in his leg was bleeding profusely.

“John I need help.” Watson leapt over to his friend’s side and aided him to stand. With his arm around Sherlock John lead the way back out of the house.

“What about me?” Irene growled.

“Oh I’m sorry are we supposed to feel sorry for a criminal?” Greg Lestrade lifted one eyebrow as he looked down at the woman. Two police came in and after cuffing her, lifted Irene to her feet and helped her to walk out to the second ambulance.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly and Sherlock settle in to 221B together. Mary is worried for a friend and John is concerned for Molly.

** Chapter nine **

 

Sherlock was sitting up in a hospital bed a nurse was removing the needle from his hand. Greg walked into the room and lent against the door.

“Can I see her now?”

Greg nodded. “Yea she’s awake, Sherlock she isn’t . . .”

“It’s all right, she will be fine.”

“What exactly are you doing to her?” Sherlock screwed up his face at the question, “that girl has been devoted to you for far longer than you deserve, and she just keep s getting hurt!”

“Are you implying I am doing it on purpose?”

“No, look, Holmes, just whatever it is that you want from her, before you do it make sure you mean it. Don’t hurt her, she’s been hurt enough.” 

“Your concern for her is clouded by your attraction to her,” Greg went to argue, “no you miss understand, I too became clouded, I will endeavour to not hurt her.”

“Yea right.” Greg shook his head and left the room. Once the nurse was done with her duties Sherlock slid off the bed. His legs shook under his weight but he ignored it and carried on. Molly’s room was not far from his. Sherlock knocked on the door gently to announce his presence. Molly opened her eyes and smiled.

“May I come in?”

“yes.” Her voice was quiet. Sherlock closed the door behind him and perched on the bed. He took hold of molly’s hand.

“Molly it seems all I do is apologise to you lately.”

“It’s ok Sherlock.”

“No its not, I don’t want you to return to your flat. I am having John move your belongings to 221B.”

“Oh.”

“You have been attacked twice there now, I can see it as the only solution. Your cat, Toby, Mrs Hudson is thrilled to have him and you there. And there is another bedroom, John’s old room. He is married now so he doesn’t need it.”

Molly gave his hand a squeeze, “you are rambling Sherlock.”

He shook his head, “I don’t want you to use the other room.” Sherlock took in a long breath. “The government have seen fit to cancel my exile, seen as I have just brought down their biggest threat. I am returning to Baker Street and you are becoming a residence. I would very much like it if you could enter the building as my . . . my” he was struggling with the words. Molly stayed quiet watching him. “It was not an experiment, Molly. What happened between us I . . . I want you, all of you, in every way.”

“Sherlock are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”

He looked into her eyes a smile dancing about his lips. He lent forward and kissed her. Resting his forehead against hers. “Have they said when you can come home?”

“Tomorrow?”

 

 

 Tomorrow became today and Sherlock nervously helped Molly out of the cab and across the street. He was holding her arm and taking most of her weight. Mrs Hudson greeted the pair at the door, pulling Molly in for a long tight hug. Molly shed a small tear, feeling happy with the new situation.

“Will you two be needing anything?”

“No thank you Mrs Hudson, I have it all sorted.” He lifted Molly into his arms and carried her up the stairs. Molly laughed all the way, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. She kissed his neck. Sherlock let out a staggered breath stepping into the bedroom.

“How is your shoulder?”

“Not too bad.”

“Do you think, molly are you strong enough?”

She nodded. Sherlock laid her down on the bed and pressed his lips against hers. He had missed the feel of her body against him and he lent into her. His fingers wrapped around her hair, just as hers did to his. Instinct took over Sherlock, he no longer took time to think about what he was doing. There was no longer a running commentary on each of his actions that there had been before. This time his mind emptied of everything leaving only Molly looking back at him. She had infiltrated his mind palace a long time ago, becoming his conscience and now there was nothing else but her. Sherlock allowed this woman to take control of him. He ran his fingers down her side and slipped his hand beneath her t-shirt. He gently pulled it off over her head, kissing down her body and sliding off the baggy jeans. He undid his trousers as molly unbuttoned the purple shirt. Sherlock explored every inch of Molly’s body running his fingers and lips across her delicate skin. Molly let out the sound of her enjoyment when he slowly pushed himself into her. Their breath quickened with each thrust. Molly’s fingernails dug into Sherlock’s back and he was pleasantly surprised at the enjoyment he got from it. Sherlock wondered why it had taken him so long to give in to his human nature and take part in the act of love making. Molly didn’t wonder much at that moment only that her love for Sherlock was stronger than ever.

She woke the next morning with Sherlock wrapped around her, the warmth of his body felt good against the pain in her shoulder. His breath was slow and peaceful, molly had never thought of Sherlock sleeping before. She rolled herself round to face him trying not to disturb his peace. Once she was again comfortable, she felt Sherlock’s arm tightening around her, he pulled her in closer to him and kissed her and then snuggled her face tight to his. Molly couldn’t help but a smile pull across her lips.

“Good morning, Molly.” His voice was deep and dreamful. His eyes stayed closed but he was smiling. It was a smile that Molly could not remember ever seeing on him before. She brought her hand up and stroked his cheekbones, “it is very soothing for me, to have in my bed.”

“Is it?”

“Yes, I find a peace in you that gives me clarity, I feel my mind has been sorted perfectly.”

“So you are saying I’ve tidied your mind palace?” Molly giggled into Sherlock’s neck.

“You have been a caretaker of sorts in my mind palace for some time. It would appear Doctor Hooper that you have become a part of me.” Sherlock pressed his lips to Molly’s forehead, “I am afraid Doctor Hooper that you will be forced to stay here forever.”

“You’re not forcing me, Sherlock.”

“Good.”

 The doorbell rang down stairs but Sherlock ignored it only pulling Molly tighter to him still. The pair listened as Mrs Hudson who had become accustomed to answering Sherlock’s doorbell went to the door. She welcomed John and Mary in with hugs and laughter before leading up them up the stairs. With a grumble Sherlock slipped out of the bed and pulled on his trousers and a white shirt. Molly got out of the bed and covered herself with one of Sherlock’s shirts and his blue dressing gown. In the living room of Baker street john and Mary Watson were sat chatting at Mrs Hudson sorted drinks in the kitchen. Sherlock strode in with his usual ‘in charge’ demeanour followed by Molly who sank onto the Sofa beside Mary who holding a baby girl in her arms.

“Are you two-” john waved a finger between Sherlock and Molly.

“At last you and observe, John. Why are you here?”

“We came to see if you are all right?” Mary smiled.

“Of course I’m all right.” Sherlock furrowed his brow at the woman.

“You were both shot, Sherlock, you were in the hospital for two weeks.”

“Your wife was also in hospital for a time and I have no need to ask her if she is all right.”

“Sherlock,” Molly sat forward, “probably say thank you actually.”

Sherlock tilted his head to her, and then nodded, there was still confusion in his eyes when he spoke the words. He sat down in his chair in silence, john sat across from him in _his_ armchair.

“You have a case?”

“Yes, well-”

“I was addressing your wife, John.” Sherlock turned his head to look at the blonde woman across the room. She looked back at him.

“I have a friend, who is a little caught up in a problem.”

“You can tell me on the way, let’s go.” Sherlock jumped to his feet and over to the door where his coat was hanging.

“Go where?” Mary asked.

“Where ever your friend is hiding, I take it she is like yourself and has become caught up in Moriarty, Adler network and as the _woman_ has managed to secure her release from prison she will have taken up her position once more. Give your daughter to your husband and let’s not take up any more time.”

Mary stood up, passed the baby to john and rushed off after Sherlock. John laid the girl in to the pram as Mrs Hudson entered with several mugs of tea.

“Oh is it just the three of us?” she put the tray down on the coffee table, “well, I’ll leave you two to chat, I’ve got some jobs to do.” The older woman smiled sweetly at Molly and john, cooed slightly over the baby and then left the room.

“So,” John turned to Molly, “did you two share a bed last night?”

Molly felt her cheeks blush red, she glanced down at her fingers.

“When I first met him, Sherlock told me something, he said that flatmates should know the worst about each other. He told me that he plays his violin when he thinks and often doesn’t talk for days.”

“I know that.”

“No, you don’t understand those aren’t his worst parts. Sherlock is different, to everyone you’ve ever known.” He sat down beside Molly on the sofa. “You’re going to have to be strong to live with him, there will be times when he won’t even acknowledge you’re there. He is going to insult you in every way he knows how and you’re going to have to take it.”

Molly nodded wrapping the dressing gown tighter around her body.

“I don’t know what your relationship is with him but you’ll have to deal with times when he won’t want anything to do with you.”

“John I’ve known Sherlock for five years, I lived with him for a month after . . .” she paused remembering Sherlock’s fall, “thank you for your concern but I think I can handle it.”

“Ok, just if you need somewhere to go or stay even just to get away from him when he is being annoying, you can come to ours.”

“Thank you John, you’re a good friend.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the knowledge in Belgravia

** Chapter nine. **

 

Mary and Sherlock walked up to a small house that looked like it hadn’t been inhabited for some time. Mary knocked on the door three times and waited. After a moment of silence it creaked open and woman poked her head out. Seeing Mary she smiled and widened the gap in for the pair to enter the building. Sherlock glanced around him at the peeling wallpaper and the threadbare carpets, he screwed up his face. He turned to the woman.

“Quickly tell me your problem, what does Irene have over you?”

“I’m good with computers, very good.”

“Yes, a hacker I suppose, there are groove in your wrists that indicate spending a lot of time resting on a laptop and your eyes are narrowed due to scanning binary code.”

“You said he was good!” the woman said to Mary, “I found something that would have me in jail. Miss Adler found out and she used it against me.”

“What did she have you do?”

“I was hacking into the government, all the governments not just ours. I kept finding things out and now I don’t . . . she knows I know the truth and now she wants to-”

Sherlock put his hand in the air to stop her talking.

“Mary from now on you will have nothing to do with this woman.” Mary opened her mouth to talk but Sherlock continued, “You are a mother now and I will not have you gallivanting around when you should be caring for John’s children. I will secure a safe house for your friend and we will continue to-”

Sherlock was cut off when the woman dropped the ground a window smashing behind her. He looked down and saw the blood running from her head. Sherlock grabbed Mary and ran through to the back of the house. The two of them ran down the alley way and across the street jumping into a cab. Mary was shouting at Sherlock to go back for her friend.

“Your friend is dead Mary! Whatever she knew _the woman_ does not want getting out!”

Mary was not one for sobbing over dead friends, she steeled her emotions and let out a breath. Squaring her shoulders she turned to Sherlock.

“What do we do?”

“You do nothing, I will work through the information and discover the truth.” Sherlock was leant on the cab door his hand balled into a fist below his chin.

“ok, what about that girl in your flat?”

“What about Molly?”

“What are you doing to her? You better not just be running an experiment with her!”

“Do people really have such a small opinion of me to think that I would run an experiment like that with a woman such as Molly Hooper?”

Mary shrugged, “look I’m just saying, she is a nice girl, I wouldn’t like to think off you hurting her, on purpose.”

“Mrs Watson I will endeavour to keep both you and Molly, as the women in my life; happy for as long as I am able.”

Mary laughed at Sherlock shaking her head. The rest of the journey home was in silence. John and Mary didn’t stay long at Baker Street, their daughter was becoming agitated.

Once they were alone again Sherlock moved over to the sofa and bent down in front of Molly, he brushed back her hair.

“Molly, I-”

Molly put a finger on his lips, “you have a case, I understand, I’m here if you need Me.” she leant forward and kissed him. Sherlock closed his eyes and put his hand around her head, holding Molly in the kiss for a moment.  In that moment Sherlock opened up his mind palace, the largest room was occupied now by every encounter he had had with Molly. He found a place for that kiss and settled it neatly there.

Sherlock gave Molly a smile and dashed back out of the room. Molly smiled to herself and flicked on the television.

 

 

Sherlock darted into the police station and Lestrade’s office.

“The _woman_ where is she?”

“In custody. Isn’t she?” Greg knew Sherlock knew something else.

“Well the death of her computer expert would disagree with you. Go to this address, her body will no doubt already be gone but there may be some evidence. I trust your team can find the smallest of it.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I know where her computer is.”

With that Sherlock spun round and was gone from the police station as quickly as he had arrived. The cab ride round to Belgravia was a quiet one, Sherlock took the time to go over what had happened over the last year. Something was niggling at him, the video footage of Moriarty had to be a fake. Yet he felt a twinge of doubt there, something he had not felt since his trip to Dartmoor. Sherlock went over the facts in his mind.

Jim had been the head of a network of criminals, he used his power and genius to create a company of them. The man never did anything himself, much like Sherlock’s brother ‘leg work’ was not his area. Not until he made contact with Sherlock of course. They had been each other’s distraction. Sherlock knew moriarty was dead he watched the man put a gun in his mouth. It couldn’t have been faked, the man could not be alive, he was sure of it. Then Irene, _the woman_ , she had admitted that moriarty was wrong. He had not been the head of the network in fact just the opposite. Whilst he had believed it was running her she was actually controlling every second.  What then could be the truth that the computer hacker had found?

Number 10 was still roped off with police tape but Sherlock took no notice of it ducking beneath and went into the house. He darted up the stairs. The first time he had been there Sherlock had noticed the locked door, but it had had no connotations to case of the time. His shoulder banged against the door knocking it open. There were several computers on desks, Sherlock was only interested in one. The red laptop in the far corner caught his attention instantly. He knew from the marks on Mary’s friend’s wrists that she used a laptop rather than a desktop computer. He opened it and pressed the on button, there was a password.

“Damn.” Sherlock knew nothing of the dead woman’s life and so knew it would take time to break the password. He grabbed the laptop up and tucked it under his arm.

“Why would you have left all of this?” Sherlock asked. The room didn’t give him any answers. Sherlock looked around the room letting each part of it sear into his memory. A filing cabinet in the corner of the room drew his attention. He went over and tried the top draw, it was empty, the second held only one file. He picked it up and headed back to Baker Street.  Molly had fallen asleep on the sofa with remote in her hand and Toby curled up on her lap. Sherlock paid her no attention sitting down at the desk and opening the laptop. He drummed his fingers on the table.

Molly’s eyes opened a fraction Sherlock was muttering to himself as he typed on the keyboard. Her own laptop was on the opposite side of the desk. Without saying a word Molly got up, Toby dropped to the other side of the sofa and curled up in a ball. Molly sat down a clicked on her own computer. It took a few moments to load up, she could tell that Sherlock hadn’t noticed her move. As she waited for the desktop screen to load, molly grabbed a USB- USB wire and plugged it into the side of her laptop. Bobbing her head to the music on the television she opened a program and lent over the desk to connect the other end of the wire to the red laptop. Sherlock noticed her hand and looked over to her. The program on Molly’s screen started working, numbers and letters flicking across the page. She got up and went into the kitchen, not saying a word to Sherlock. He got up and moved round to her computer seeing the decoding program. He followed Molly to the kitchen.

“Why do you have that program?”

Molly giggled, “I’m not just a pathologist, Sherlock, I have hobbies.”

Sherlock looked at her, narrowing his eyes, he tilted his head and smiled. “Hobbies?”

“Oh can you not deduce it Sherlock? Don’t worry it shouldn’t take too long and I’ll tell everyone you figured it out on your own.”

Sherlock lunged forward and grabbed Molly around her waist lifting her up on to the kitchen counter. He kissed her hard holding her body tight to his. He reached up and pulled the tie from her hair letting it fall down around her shoulders.

“How do you do it? Hide things from me?”

“Every girl wants a bit of mystery about her.”

Sherlock kissed her again, it was passionate and untamed. He didn’t seem to care that they were in the kitchen he was pulling at Molly’s clothes pushing the dressing gown off her shoulders and unbuttoning the shirt. Molly’s legs wrapped around him, her hands tangling in his hair. When he undressed he made quick work removing his own clothes.

 

 

Sherlock and Molly laid on the kitchen floor, covered by the blue dressing gown.

“The file.” Sherlock said out of the blue.

“What file?” molly craned her neck to look at him.

“That one.” Sherlock sat up hastily, Molly winced from the pain in her shoulder as he knocked her into sitting. Sherlock spun back round and knelt in front of her. “Are you ok?”

“Yes, just you need to be careful with me at the moment.” She answered breathlessly.

“I’m sorry.” He helped Molly to her feet and they walked back into the living room together. Sherlock lifted the file he had dropped on the coffee table earlier. He opened it, screwing up his face.

“What is it?” Molly questioned moving round to Sherlock’s side.

“Pictures. The _woman_ does enjoy taking pictures. But who is he?”

The decoding program blinked and the red laptop opened to the desktop screen. Sherlock sat down at the desk and started scanning through the files. Molly let out a sigh, she knew he had fallen back into his work and decided to go have a shower.

Once she was dressed again Molly went back to the living room and looked over the bookshelf. She saw Sherlock out the corner of her eye still pouring over the files. His face was close to the screen. Sighing to herself Molly went into the kitchen and flicked on the kettle. It occurred to her as she made a tea and one coffee that it was strange how easily she found this. John had made it sound so bad living with Sherlock when he was on case, but so far it hadn’t been too bad. They were in the flat together and for her that was all that mattered. Placing the coffee next to Sherlock Molly curled herself onto the sofa with one of Sherlock’s medical journals. Having lived alone for so long she was happy to be practically alone with her own thoughts. Sherlock took a sip of the tea, letting Molly know he had acknowledged it’s arrival.

It was dark outside when lestrade knocked at the door. Molly didn’t bother moving from her spot, she smiled and said hello to the inspector when he entered.

“What did you find?” Sherlock asked not taking his eyes from the computer.

“More like what we didn’t find, there wasn’t a body, like you said. But that was our biggest clue right? Who covers up their tracks? The network does, but they left the blood. Her name is Sarah, not that important really except she was Kitty Riley’s sister.”

“wonderful Lestrade, her sister yes, I have had my suspicions for some time that Moriarty was put in contact with Miss Riley through Irene Adler.” Sherlock stopped for a moment and looked at Lestrade. “How did you get in here?”

“The door was open.”

“Mrs Hudson didn’t let you in?”

“No I haven’t seen her.”

Sherlock pushed past the inspector and charged down the stairs, the land lady’s door was ajar. He went in calling her name. There was no sign of a struggle in the ground floor flat. Still her lack of presence disturbed Sherlock. Greg and Molly came in behind him.

“They have Mrs Hudson!”

“What?” molly gasped.

“Who does?” Greg asked.

“ _The woman!”_ Sherlock spat out, running back upstairs. The wound in his legs shot a pain up him and he stumbled.

“Sherlock you can’t keep running around! Just stop for a minute and think.” Molly demanded when she reached the top of the steps. Sherlock stopped and looked at her.

“Molly, they have Mrs Hudson, I cannot stop. I have to find her.”

Molly nodded, “ok, but we need to slow down a little so we can think.”

Sherlock took in three deep breaths and closed his eyes. His mind palace was a mess. The information from the computer was jumbled in piles. The face of the man in the pictures kept splashing across his eyes, “who are you?” Sherlock’s hand pointed down at the pictures he had left on the desk and lestrade went over to them.

John and Mary came through the flat door Sherlock had apparently text them when he’d discovered Mrs Hudson’s disappearance.  John looked at the pictures that lestrade was holding.

“That’s colonel Moran, what has he got to do with it?”

Sherlock’s eyes flashed open, “What do you know about him?”

“Not much really formerly of the 1st Bangalore Pioneers, I don’t know what happened but he was dishonorably discharged a few years ago. Was a good shot from what I remember, a sniper. But he isn’t much now, drinks and gambles from what I’ve heard.”

“Wonderful john.” Sherlock’s face lit up, “now I wonder when he met Moriarty.”

“What?”

“Obviously Irene sees this man as a threat, I suspect he was one of Moriarty’s closest employees. She has had us believe that she was always in charge, but that isn’t true,” he pointed to the lap top, “she has been profiling people, known associates of Moriarty’s as well as others. She is smart but she isn’t as smart as Jim, it was easy for her to take up a position once he had killed himself. But every leader has opposition. No not opposition, she didn’t want Sarah to know about Moran; so there is more to this. Mary I need you to take Molly back to your house.”

“No hold on!” Molly protested. Sherlock spun round to her and put his hands on her shoulders, being sure not to put a lot of pressure on the left one.

“Molly, I need you safe. It has been made more than clear to these people that I will drop everything to come for you. I will not put in the position to get hurt again. Mary can look after you.” He lent in and kissed her on lips resting his forehead to hers. Molly nodded, her eyes glassy with tears she held back. Lestrade screwed up his face as he looked at them. John laughed, and brushed off the inspector’s confusion

Mary took Molly’s hand and looked up to Sherlock. “I’ll keep her safe.” Sherlock nodded.

“Look after yourself and your daughter as well.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> why is everyone Sherlock cares about in danger?

Chapter ten

Once the women had left the room Sherlock sat back down at the desk and started going back through the files on the laptop.   
“What are you looking for?” John stood behind him, looking over his shoulder at the screen.   
“There has to be a list of the buildings they own.”   
“Why would they have taken Mrs. Hudson?” Lestrade asked crossing his arms over his chest.   
“Moran is obviously aware of my involvement with the woman and so is attempting to procure my compliance to let him continue his takeover of the network by threatening those I care for.” Sherlock stood up, “he is mistaken.” Sherlock pulled his coat and scarf on leaving the flat, the other two men followed him.   
“Where are we going Sherlock?”   
“To the fall!”   
St Bart’s hospital wasn’t too far from Baker Street and the cab arrived quickly. Sherlock didn’t wait for his companions but rushed into the building and up the stair case. John passed some notes to the driver before he and Lestrade ran after Sherlock.  
The access door to the roof banged shut behind him as Sherlock stopped running. Mrs. Hudson had been tied and stood close to the edge of the building.   
“Oh Sherlock!” she was crying, “you mustn’t come any closer, he is going to shoot you.”   
Sherlock stood still and swallowed hard. The cut on his landlady’s cheek angered him. He remembered back to when an American had dared to hurt her. The culprit of this attack wasn’t there to be thrown from the building. He balled his hands in to fists.   
“Where are they?”   
She shook her head and Sherlock saw the blue tooth ear piece in her ear. He took a step closer. Mrs. Hudson let out a whimper. “He says, if you touch me I’ll die, oh Sherlock what have you gotten angled up with?”   
“I’m going to get you out of this, I promise.” Sherlock started pacing the roof top, john and Lestrade appeared behind him.   
“Mrs. Hudson, my god what have they done to you?” john exclaimed.   
“This is ridicules!” Sherlock growled. And darted forwards he grabbed his landlady and dropped to the floor his arms wrapped around her. He looked to Lestrade and John as a bullet hit the access door. “Find him!” he shouted.   
“What about you?” John called as they moved towards the door.   
“We will be safe here, GO!”   
The inspector and doctor rushed out of the hospital and lestrade called in for back up.   
Sherlock had his arms tightly wrapped around Mrs. Hudson.   
“Stay as still as you can,” he whispered to her. He could feel the older woman shacking he took the blue tooth device and put it to his own ear, “you are a coward Moran!”   
“And your men won’t find me Holmes. You may have bested Jim but never expected to find me. I am the west wind and I am coming for you.”   
“I will be waiting!”   
The device clicked off, Sherlock shoved it into his pocket; letting out a growl. He looked down at Mrs. Hudson, “we should be ok to leave now, can you stand?”   
“Yes.”   
Sherlock helped her to her feet and pulled the ties from her hands. He kept his arm around her as they walked down the stairs. Outside there were lots of policemen dotted around the street. Lestrade and John walked over to Sherlock.   
“He’s gone.” Lestrade announced.   
“I would suggest you not staying at Baker Street tonight,” john spoke to Mrs. Hudson as he checked the cut on her face, “but I know you won’t listen to Me.” he smiled down at her.   
She laughed back at him, Sherlock removed his arm as she walked away with the doctor. He turned to Lestrade. “He is making this personal, Lestrade.” 

Back at 221B Sherlock was pacing the living room. John was sitting in his armchair resting his head on one hand.   
“What are we going to do Sherlock?”   
“I don’t know, he is going to keep going, I have to make sure everyone is safe.” Sherlock dialed his number.   
“Hello dear brother.” Mycroft’s voice was as sarcastic as ever.  
“Mycroft, just shut up and listen, I need you help me . . . don’t be smug, send someone to our parents, they will need protection for the foreseeable future as will you. Do not argue with me Mycroft I am not in the mood!”   
Sherlock hung up the phone and stood in the middle of the room. He was breathing heavily.   
“I’ll make some tea, shall I?” john said standing up. Sherlock kicked one of the chairs and sent it flying across the room. “THIS IS NOT A TIME FOR TEA!”   
Trying to calm himself Sherlock lent down on the desk. John walked up behind him.   
“Sherlock?”   
“Go, John, you should be with your wife and daughter, she will protest but make Mrs Hudson go with you. Lestrade, I’ll phone him have him send policemen to your house, you’ll be safe.”   
“What are you talking about?”   
“You have to go home, John!”   
“No, no I don’t. You’re not doing this again. You’re not doing this alone Sherlock.”   
“John you have a family now.” Sherlock turned to his friend, John could see the anguish in his face.   
“The thing is Sherlock, I’ve always had family, since I found you, just like you have family.”   
“I have to protect you all.”   
“No you don’t, god you’re an idiot sometimes.” John stood up to his full height, still much shorter than Sherlock, but showing every part of his military career. “You can’t just protect us all, we knew for well who you were when we got involved so suck it up and deal with the fact that you have a family!”  
Sherlock looked down at John, he opened his mouth to speak but closed it again swiftly. He nodded his head. “We still need to get Mrs. Hud-”  
“I don’t think so Sherlock.” She was stood in the doorway a tray of tea and biscuits in her hands, “I’m going nowhere, this is my home.” Sherlock marched over and put his arms around his landlady. John had always known of Sherlock’s affection for the woman but he had never seen the man show it in such a fierce way. Not for the first time the army Doctor noticed a change in his friend.  
“I’ll call Greg the girls could still do with a little protection.” John announced taking his mobile from his pocket. Sherlock took the tray from Mrs. Hudson and laid it on the coffee table. He offered her a seat on the sofa and poured out a drink for all of them. When john had finished with his call Sherlock excused himself from and went to his bedroom, closing the door behind him. He sat down on his bed and dialed his phone. Molly answered.   
“Hello Sherlock, are you ok?”   
“I’m fine Molly. I want you to understand why I sent you away.”   
“It’s ok, I know. They’ve already taken me twice, it’s inevitable they would try again.”  
“How did it take me so long to learn that you are the smartest woman I have ever known?”   
“Because you are incredibly sexist and ignorant of anyone.”   
“Don’t make jokes molly. I want you . . . molly don’t do anything reckless.”   
“I won’t.”   
“No promise me.”   
“Only if you promise me! Sherlock I’ve looked him up, Moran. He is an expert marksman, and I’m-”  
“Molly, I will be here when you come home, I promise.”   
Molly was quiet, Sherlock knew she was wiping tears from her face.  
“Don’t cry, I don’t like it when you cry Molly.”   
She sniffed.   
“You have your locket don’t you Molly?”  
“Yes.”   
“Good, I think I have a plan Molly. I will call you when I’m done.”   
He hung up the phone and sat for a moment holding his hands to his lips.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly has an unlikely hero. Sherlock comes to dinner

** Chapter twelve. **

 

John Watson stormed into 221B, charging up the stair case. Sherlock turned to face him as John’s fist slammed down on his cheek. Sherlock closed his eyes and straightened himself up.

“You unimaginable Git! What the hell where you thinking?” John paced the room his hands still balled into fists, Mary stepped into the room. Sherlock stayed silent, his mouth closed tight.

“You are one of the most . . . I can’t even look at you,” John turned his back but quickly turned back and put his face close to Sherlock’s, “you told me, you said you weren’t a hero . . . Jesus when did you become . . . Jesus Christ Sherlock.” John’s voice broke as he spoke.

“John, go down stairs.” Mary put her hand on her husband’s arm and gave it a squeeze. John took a deep breath before leaving the room. Mary crossed her arms and looked at Sherlock.

“Sherlock.” She shook her head.

“Mary, I have no excuse for what-”

“She’s terrified, Sherlock. That poor girl has been in love with you for years and now she’s terrified.  What possessed you to do it?”

“I needed to understand, so I found another woman who was, she was very smart but it did not feel the same as when I was with her.”

“No, I don’t mean that, molly would have forgiven you for that. Not straight away but she would have.” Mary gave him a little smile, “but what made you hurt her?”

Sherlock took in a shocked breath and blinked his eyes. “I . . . I hurt her.” It wasn’t a question but a realization of what he had really done. “I didn’t, I was angry and she wouldn’t listen to me.”

“You cannot make her listen to you, you have to wait for her to be ready.”

Sherlock sunk into his armchair bringing his hands up to his face.

“John is angry with me?”

“Yes he is, but he’ll get over it. Sherlock stop worrying about your boyfriend and worry about your girlfriend.” Mary knelt down in front of him. Her face was kind, Sherlock knew the woman’s past but in that moment she was only Mary Watson. If ever Sherlock had had a sister he would have wanted her to be that woman.

“How hurt is she?”

“A few bruises, a little heartache. She’ll be ok though.”

“I should talk to her.”

“No, I don’t think so, do you? She isn’t with us anymore anyway.”

“Where is she?” Sherlock felt a pain hit his heart.

“With Mycroft.” John was leaning against the door frame, having calmed down somewhat.

“With my brother? Why is she with him?” Sherlock screwed up his face. The mention of his brother confused him.

“He insisted,” John seemed to be relishing his words, “he knew the only place Molly would be safe is at his house. What better way to keep you away from her?”

Sherlock stood up. “Why does my brother care if she is safe?”

“The only woman his little brother has ever loved, how could he not care about her?” Mary moved over to her husband.

“Loved?” Sherlock looked over his shoulder at the pair.

“Yes Sherlock, you idiot.” John huffed. “That thing you’re feeling is love, you have the worst way of showing it but it’s true.”

Sherlock gulped down his argument, a voice in his head was telling him John was right.

“What do I do?” John Watson had never seen Sherlock look so small, his face resembled that of a child. The shoulders that had always been so strong drooped shortening the man a few inches.

“Wait, we’ll do the rest.” Mary walked over to him, “just stay away for a while ok?”

Sherlock nodded.

“Lestrade called, there is case. A small one but it’ll keep your mind off . . . well.” john sighed. Sherlock agreed to continue working for the time being. Mary hugged him tight and Sherlock took comfort from the embrace. He watched as she left the flat.

Mary’s drove round to Mycroft’s home. She scoffed at the lavishness of the building. The butler showed her through to where Molly was sitting curled up in a chair with toby on her lap. Mary gave her a motherly grin and sat across from her.

“John punched him.” She laughed. Molly managed a grin.

“Look, I know he’s been a dick head but he is sorry.”

“Mary I . . .”

“I’m not saying go straight back to him now. We can make him suffer a little bit.” Mary scrunched up her nose as the two laughed. “What’s it like, here with Mycroft?”

Molly laughed. “I don’t really see him, we had breakfast this morning and he kept asking if I was ok, to be honest I don’t think he really knows how to handle having me here.”

The two girls laughed.

 

Three weeks had passed and Molly was still living at Mycroft’s home. Having a staff to order about still made her feel uncomfortable and she tried to avoid it as much as possible. Mycroft had been coming home for dinner every night, ensuring that Molly was not arriving to an empty house when she finished work. This both confused and made the pathologist happy. She had met Mycroft Holmes and year before his brother and had always found him agreeable. Even when he was rude to her coworkers he had been kind to her, in his own way.

One morning Molly sat down in the library resting her head in her hand. It was her day off from work and she had planned to read. Mycroft came in with a determined look on his face.

“Doctor Hooper, I have something to ask you.”

Molly put down her book and straightened her position in the chair.

“My brother has requested to attend dinner this evening. If you are amenable to the idea then I shall invite him, if not it is perfectly fine.”

“No, I mean, yes it’s ok if he comes to dinner.” 

“Very well.” Mycroft turned to walk away.

“You two don’t have dinner though so why is he coming here?”

“I will not be attending dinner tonight, Doctor; I have a meeting that makes it impossible. If that changes your answer in any way.”

“No it’s ok.”

Molly spent the day fretting over the dinner. She dressed and then changed her outfit several times before settling on the cashmere jumper and silk scarf she had gotten for Christmas the year before. At first Molly had tied her back into a plate but then changed her mind and twisted it into a bun.

Nervousness fluttering in her stomach Molly sat herself in the parlor room and waited for her dinner guest. She heard the doorbell ring and the butler answering it. Moments later he entered the room and announced Sherlock’s arrival. Molly stood up as Sherlock walked over to her. He stooped a few steps away.

“Good evening, Molly.”

“Good evening, Sherlock.”

Sherlock lent forward bringing his face to Molly’s and kissing her cheek. He felt her body stiffen as he touched her. He closed his eyes and frowned.

“You are frightened of me?”

Molly pressed her lips together.

“Please don’t be.” Sherlock’s voice was quiet, “I couldn’t bare it if you were scared of me.”

Molly sat back down holding her arms across her chest.

“You can pour me some wine.” She stated not looking at Sherlock.  He obliged her and poured a large glass of red wine for her and some scotch for himself. He sat in the chair opposite her and they stayed in silence.

Dinner was announced a few minutes later. Sherlock stood and held out his arm for Molly. Apprehensively she took it and allowed him to lead her to the dining room.

“Do you have any cases at the moment?”

Sherlock smiled, happy that she was talking to him. “Yes, there was the mystery of a hidden child and a broken ruby.”

Molly urged him to continue and Sherlock regaled the story of how he had found and apprehended the leader of a child trafficking ring using only the clue of a broken necklace. Molly laughed along with him and let herself enjoy the story.

When dinner was finished the pair returned to the parlor and sat across from each other.

“Molly I want you to come home.” Sherlock blurted out.

“Oh . . . um, Sherlock I don’t know.”

Sherlock dropped to his knees in front of her.

“I am at your mercy, Molly. I miss your presence with every fiber of my being. I cannot concentrate on my work properly. You have become my mind palace entirely.”

“Sherlock stop talking. I’ll come back but you have to promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“If you ever think about cheating on me again, or you decide you don’t want me, talk to me tell me. Do not just leave me.”

“It will never happen, but of course I promise you.” He had hold of her hands pressing his lips to her fingers. Molly leant forward and kissed him. Sherlock pulled her tight wrapping his arms around her. Molly became intoxicated by the smell of him. Her body started to relax. Sherlock moved his hand down her arm to her wrist. Molly stiffened to the touch. Sherlock pulled back instantly.

“I’m sorry I can’t. Not yet.”

Sherlock placed his forehead to Molly’s knees.

The two agreed that Molly would return to Baker Street the next day before Sherlock left. Mycroft arrived an hour later and Molly explained her leaving.

The next morning Mycroft stood beside the car, umbrella in hand. Molly walked out of the house and slid the cat box, containing Toby into the back seat of the car. She turned to Mycroft.

“Thank you. You’ve been . . .”

“Doctor Hooper it has been a pleasure having you here, should you ever need a holiday from my brother you are more than welcome to come back.”

“Thank you.” Molly pulled herself onto tiptoes and kissed Mycroft’s cheek.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock comes to the logical conclusion

Chapter thirteen.

Moving back into 221B was strange for Molly. Sherlock had been waiting at the door for her and took Toby the cat and darted upstairs with him. When all of her bags had been brought up Sherlock turned to her. Sweeping molly into his arms his kissed her. Molly couldn’t help but let him. He was so happy and his body exuded excitement. She held on to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. Sherlock lifted Molly off her feet and she felt a small twinge in her shoulder but ignored it. Holding her very gently Sherlock moved through the flat to his bedroom. Each of his movements were slow and precise giving Molly the opportunity to stop him if she wanted to. Molly took hold of his face and pulled him back looking into his eyes. The softness she saw looking back at her was a complete contrast to the man who had come to St Bart’s that day. She let out a breathy laugh and kissed Sherlock’s lips.   
Molly fell quickly into her old routine of living in Baker Street. She would leave readymade sandwiches in the fridge for Sherlock and scold him if he left them uneaten. The consulting detective would work on his cases with John Watson and Molly go to work. Every Saturday Mary would come over to the flat with baby Watson and the two women would watch trashy tele. Even Mycroft would visit more often. He said it had been a request of his mother’s but Molly was sure it was his fondness for her that brought him. Sherlock made sure he was home every night. He didn’t always sleep but Molly was happy enough to have him cuddle her until she fell asleep.   
One evening Sherlock arrived home to find Mary sat with his girlfriend, a baby asleep in the corner of the room.   
“Hello Mary.” It wasn’t uncommon for her to be there and John was walking in behind Sherlock. He kissed his wives forehead. “Ready?” he asked rubbing his hands together. Mary stood and up pulled her coat on. She went over to her daughter and kissed her gently.   
“There is a bottle in the bag if she wakes up, thank you so much Molly; you’re a life saver.”   
“No problem-”  
“No hold on, what’s happening?” Everyone laughed at Sherlock’s confusion.   
“Our usual babysitter let us down last minute, Molly said she would step in.” Molly scrunched her nose with a mocking smile.   
“Don’t worry mate, you’ll do fine.” John slapped him on the arm and the pair left. Sherlock turned to Molly.   
“Sherlock its fine, she is asleep and they won’t be out late.”   
Sherlock put his arms around her and pulled her body into him. “What if I wanted to have you tonight?”   
“You’ll just have to wait, anticipation, Mr. Holmes.” She giggled. Sherlock moved round to the side of the travel cot that had been put up in the living room of 221B looking down at the child. His hands wrapped around his back as he straightened his back. Sherlock stepped up behind him and put her arms around on of his squeezing him tight. Enjoying the warmth of her embrace Sherlock looked down at Molly. A thought flashed across his mind. A thought Sherlock had never believed he would have. Clearing his throat Sherlock went to his armchair and lifted the newspapers and burying his nose in them. Molly laughed to herself and settled down on the sofa with a book. The evening began to roll pass them. Molly flicked on the television to watch her weekly program as Sherlock flitted about the flat going through files of evidence for a case Lestrade had sent round to him. John Watson’s daughter who had been named Lily, started to stir. Sherlock dropped the file he was looking at and stood up showing his nervousness. Molly laughed and pushed past him. She lifted the ever growing child into her arms and coddled her. She bounced herself gently, singing in a soothing tone. Sherlock sunk down into his chair and watched Molly caring for the child. Something in the way she smiled at Lily touched Sherlock. It made him happy to see hold such a small person. Sherlock had never really been a fan of babies he found them annoying and far too dependent on adults. There had been one child he had become fond of during the preparations for John’s wedding. Archie had been interested in some of Sherlock’s crime scene photographs and Sherlock appreciated the boy’s obvious high intellect. Though he shown some happiness at the birth of his makeshift niece the consulting detective had not been overly keen on bonding with her. Yet as he watched his Molly cuddling the child to her something changed. He let his mind wonder and imagined her swollen with pregnancy, then to the joy of holding a child that was half her and half his. Sherlock wondered how that child would grow up. A flutter of longing sparked inside Sherlock’s chest.   
He moved over to the sofa were Molly had sat to give Lily the bottle. Sherlock slid himself tight against her. One hand wrapped around Molly’s back and the other came round and stroked the child’s face.   
“She is a beautiful child.” Sherlock had voiced his thought without realizing. Molly glanced up to him and smiled.   
“Perhaps she will be best friends without children.”   
Molly had to catch her breath at his words.   
“Hold on are you saying you want to . . .”  
“Not right away but later, I think it would be nice.”   
“Ok, but you’re not going to bolt as soon as it happens are you?”   
Sherlock could see the panic and worry in her face. He pulled her and the child closer to him kissing the side of her head. “I’m never going to leave you, ever.”   
Molly lent into to him and the two stayed relaxed on the sofa. When John and Mary came in a few hours later they found Mrs. Hudson lent on the doorframe, a hand over her heart. She sighed looking at her tenants.   
“Isn’t a beautiful sight?” she whispered to John. He looked down at his friend who was still wrapped around Molly as she held on to a sleeping Lily. It was the picture of a perfect family and John felt a glimmer of hope for Sherlock’s future. Very gently John lifted his daughter from Molly’s hand and carried her down the stairs, his wife close behind him. They were driving to their home soon after and Mary turned to her husband.   
“He will make a brilliant father one day.”   
John laughed, Mary could read Sherlock like a book which both infuriated and pleased the detective. 

Sherlock awoke the next morning still on the sofa. He pulled Molly tight to him and she stirred slightly to reposition herself into him. “Molly, I need to go out today.”   
“hmm.” She replied still half in sleep.   
“I will not be long. Perhaps you should run yourself a bath and relax for today.” He kissed her head gently crushing her body against his. Molly turned herself so she could press her lips to his. They stayed in the embrace for a moment before Sherlock rose, pulled on his coat; wrapped his scarf about his neck and scampered out of the door.   
Molly laughed at Sherlock’s suggestion she couldn’t relax in a bath, she had to be in work in two hours. The pathologist jumped the shower and washed herself quickly. Drying her hair haphazardly and tying it in a fishbone plate. She dressed her usual comfortable clothing and looked at herself in the mirror. A flash of doubt came across her. She pulled her mobile form her pocket and dialed. One of her friends from St Barts answered. Molly quickly asked her if she wanted to go shopping during their lunch break at work. The woman agreed and Molly danced off to work.   
As agreed her friend appeared at lunch time; she was a tall woman with beautifully dark hair that fell in layers down her back. She grabbed Molly and they were off. Molly explained that she wanted to dress differently, better for her figure and her friend relished the idea. By the end of the hour Molly was lugging several bags back to the hospital. Her friend was very pleased with herself and waited for Molly to change her clothes. When Molly came out of the toilet she felt slightly self-conscious.  
“What do think Beccie?”   
Beccie jumped up and over to Molly she ran her hands over Molly’s shoulders feeling the new material of the shirt. “You look a million Dollars.”   
“Thank you.” Molly blushed a little and worried her bottom lip.   
The rest of the day swept by Molly like a dream, she wasn’t sure she had taken much of it in. she would have to go over her notes of the autopsy the next day. The cab that took her home seemed to take forever and it was dark when Molly arrived home. She walked into the flat not feeling that anything was different, dropping the bags of new clothing at the top of the stairs she wondered into the living room. Sherlock was stood close to the fireplace his back to Molly.   
“Hello Sherlock. Did you get done what you had to do?” she wasn’t really paying attention to him as she wondered into the kitchen and flicked on the kettle. Sherlock had turned and was watching her. His keen detective skills weren’t needed to see the change in Molly’s attire. The shirt she wore hugged her frame perfectly, showing off the shape of her breasts. The boot cut jeans that led down simply kitten heeled boots, made her legs seem longer. Sherlock watched her in silence as Molly untied her hair, ran her fingers through it a few times and let it drape over her shoulders. His breath catching in his throat and his chest tightened. His hand fiddled with the tiny velvet box in his pocket.   
“Molly could you come here a moment?”   
“Sure.” Molly walked over not really thinking anything of it. She stopped in front of her boyfriend and looked up to his face. There was some emotion playing behind his eyes though she couldn’t read it. Sherlock bent down and kissed Molly on the mouth.   
“You didn’t need to change the way you dressed Molly.”   
“Oh,” she felt slightly embarrassed, “I thought it was time I dressed my age.” She grinned and let out a giggle. Sherlock smiled back at her.   
“However this new outfit is very . . . I like it.” he planted another kiss on her lips. Sherlock pulled away holding her hands in his, he took a few breaths trying to steady the tightness in his chest.   
“I realize that this is normally done in the sight of other people, in a restaurant or amongst friends,” his hand slipped into his pocket, “however, I am not accustomed to showing affection and feel this is more suited to the both of us.” Slowly Sherlock lowered himself onto one knee and pulled the velvet box from his pocket. Opening it he continued. “Molly Hooper will you marry me?”   
Molly’s hands flew to her mouth. Her breath had escaped her, tears were filling her eyes. Sherlock stayed on his knee looking up to her. The silence was becoming uncomfortable.   
“Molly?” he searched her eyes, “I believe it is customary for you to answer.”   
She shook herself and nodded her head, “yes, yes I will.” Molly couldn’t help but giggle as Sherlock slipped the Emerald and silver band onto her ring finger. He took her up in his arms and kissed her hard. Molly’s hands wrapped around him pulling him closer to her. Sherlock lifted molly up and she wrapped her legs around him. Still pressed in their kiss he maneuvered the flat to the bedroom. Sherlock sat down with his new fiancée on top of him. Molly’s kiss intensified. Her hands ventured Sherlock’s body. The pair wasted no time in buttoning each other’s shirts. Sherlock noted the change in Molly’s underwear, no long the plain white cotton but laced and delicate. Molly was pressing and grinding her body against him and Sherlock’s body showed its appreciation. He moved his lips to her collar bone and made light work of removing molly’s bra. He turned her lying he on the bed and moved his hands to the jeans. Molly lifted her hips for him to pull them down. She licked her lips meeting his eyes. Sherlock’s tongue explored Molly, flicking over her most sensitive parts. Molly clenched the sheets between her hands as her breath got quicker. She raised her hips and widened her legs for Sherlock. He pressed his hands against her hips and held her tightly to him as his tongue worked on her. Molly pulled him up to her and kissed him hard. Her hands unzipped his trousers and slid them down his legs. Sherlock pushed himself inside her and held her body tight to his.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the mind palace.

Chapter fourteen.

Molly laid in bed, her head on Sherlock’s chest, listening to his quite snores. Her left hand was raised as she stared and the beautiful ring in her finger. She had never thought that this moment would come. To have the man she had been in love with for so long finally appreciate her. Though he had not said it, the proposal and confirmed Sherlock’s feelings for the pathologist. He loved her and this was his way of showing it.   
Fear suddenly struck her. She bolted to sitting the sheet wrapped clutched to her chest. The wedding? What would the wedding be like? Molly’s mind flicked through her wardrobe. She had a plain white summer dress it was cotton with lace trim and flattered her figure. That would do she supposed for a registry wedding. Molly was sure Sherlock would want to keep the affair quiet. The media still had not caught on to their relationship. So far it had been reported that the living arrangement was one of convenience to the detective and pathologist. Molly had been contented with that conclusion glad to keep herself out of the public eye. Would that change if they heard of the wedding? Sherlock stirred behind her and his hand smoothed her back.   
“What is it?” he asked sitting up.   
Molly quickly asked all of her question.   
“Of course it will be in the news, I am sure the public will be intrigued by my sudden change of lifestyle.” He kissed her shoulder, “as for the wedding I would not dream of denying you a grand day. You will have whatever you want.” Molly’s face flushed red. “I want to show you and everyone else how I feel for you.” He kissed her bare skin again. “I have been paying money into your account for some time, there should be plenty in there for you to procure the dress you desire, anything I will pay for.”   
Molly giggled, her mind racing with ideas.   
“Molly I want you to be happy, in every way. I have put you through so much over the years. You have taken my insults. You helped me without question in my deepest of needs and then you forgave me. You found it in your heart to forgive my darkest aspects. There is no one as kind and caring as you are. I doubt there is a single other person on earth who would live with my damnable nature.”   
“John did.”   
“John was my friend and I am sure we will continue that friendship for many years, in ways he is closer to me than a brother could be. But you Molly, my dear Molly you are my heart.”   
Molly melted back into his body planting a kiss on her fiancée as they lay back holding each other. Sherlock enjoyed the sensation of her body against him as much as Molly did. The sweet strawberry scent of her hair filled his nose. As he lay there Sherlock ventured into his mind palace, keenly aware that he had let it go to ruin. There were memories piled around in a mess. Feeling Molly fall into sleep beside him he set about tidying up. The memories of Moran were locked up with those of Moriarty deep into the faults of the palace. For a moment Sherlock contemplated deleting all memories of Irene Adler. But he decided it would be best for him keep the encounters incase such a person should present themselves again. Though the sexual thoughts he once felt for her were fizzled out of each memory.   
Sherlock thought he was done everything seemed in its place. Yet something did not feel right. Sherlock wondered the rooms seeking out the disturbance then he found it. A door made of solid, dark wood loomed into the light. Apprehensive of what laid behind it Sherlock touched his hand to the handle and twisted it. A wave of strawberry filled air swept over him. At one time Sherlock had believed that his meetings with Molly were superficial. Though it seemed as he looked at everyone that his subconscious mind had kept them all. Perfectly remembered and bright. Sherlock let the memories out and danced between them he wanted them to fill up his mind palace; fill up the cold corners. Just like she had brought peace to his waking life she would bring it to his mind.   
Right at the back of the room one memory stayed in its place. Sherlock crouched down and took the memory into his arms letting himself fall back into it.   
It was Christmas Eve and everyone was in his flat. Sherlock played his violin as John tried to woe yet another failed relationship. Molly Hooper wondered in with a shy smile and two bags filled with gifts. “Hello, everyone. Sorry, hello.” She said nervously.   
John walks over to greet her, smiling.   
“Err, it said on the door just to come up.” She unsure of her presence in the room. Everyone greeted cheerfully. Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Oh, everybody’s saying hullo to each other. How wonderful.” He spoke sarcastically to himself. Smiling at him nervously molly removed her coat and scarf, john took them.  
“Let me, er ... holy Mary!” He noted her black dress with diamante trim. Lestrade gawps in similar “Wow!”  
“Having a Christmas drinkies, then?” her nerves had not subsided.   
Sherlock slid into his chair, “No stopping them, apparently.”  
“It’s the one day of the year where the boys have to be nice to me, so it’s almost worth it!” Mrs. Hudson stated the drink she had consumed glowing in her plump cheeks. Molly giggles nervously, her eyes fixed on Sherlock as he starts typing on John’s laptop. John brings a chair over for her. “Have a seat.”  
John and Sherlock had a quick conversation about the counter on his blog not moving, Sherlock tried the numbers on the camera phone before returning it to his pocket.   
Molly turns to Mrs Hudson. “How’s the hip?” she asked actual concern in her voice.   
“Ooh, it’s atrocious, but thanks for asking.”  
“I’ve seen much worse, but then I do post-mortems.” An awkward silence fell over the room. Molly looked embarrassed. “Oh, God. Sorry.”  
“Don’t make jokes, Molly.” Sherlock’s voice was cold to her.   
“No. Sorry.” Lestrade hands her a glass of red wine. “Thank you. I wasn’t expecting to see you. I thought you were gonna be in Dorset for Christmas.”  
“That’s first thing in the morning. Me and the wife – we’re back together. It’s all sorted.” He grins at her. Without looking up from the computer Sherlock spoke, “No, she’s sleeping with a P.E. teacher.”  
Lestrade’s smile became rather fixed. Molly turns to John who is sitting on the arm of his armchair. The girlfriend was sat in the chair itself.  
“And John. I hear you’re off to your sister’s, is that right?” Sherlock was complaining,” Sherlock raises his eyebrows indignantly. Molly corrects herself, “... saying.”  
“First time ever, she’s cleaned up her act. She’s off the booze.”  
“Nope.” Sherlock announced. John quickly told him to shut up.   
“I see you’ve got a new boyfriend, Molly, and you’re serious about him.”  
The room fell silent starring between the two of them. “Sorry, what?” Molly’s voice was mousey.   
“In fact, you’re seeing him this very night and giving him a gift.” The others protested against his deductions. “Oh, come on. Surely you’ve all seen the present at the top of the bag – perfectly wrapped with a bow. All the others are slapdash at best.”  
He stood up and walked towards Molly, looking at the other presents which aren’t as carefully wrapped. “It’s for someone special, then. The shade of red echoes her lipstick – either an unconscious association or one that she’s deliberately trying to encourage. Either way, Miss Hooper has lurrrve on her mind. The fact that she’s serious about him is clear from the fact she’s giving him a gift at all. That would suggest long-term hopes, however forlorn; and that she’s seeing him tonight is evident from her make-up and what she’s wearing.” He smiled smugly to John and started to turn the gift tag, continuing his monologue. “Obviously trying to compensate for the size of her mouth and breasts . . .” He trailed off as he looked down at the writing on the tag. Written in red ink, the greeting reads:

Dearest Sherlock  
Love Molly xxx

Sherlock gazed at the words in shock as he realised the terrible thing that he has just done. Molly gasps quietly. “You always say such horrible things. Every time. Always. Always.”  
As she fought back tears, Sherlock turned to walk away ... but then stopped and turned back to her. “I am sorry. Forgive me.” he stepped closer to her and spoke softly, “Merry Christmas, Molly Hooper.” Leaning into her he kissed her cheek.  
The memory stung Sherlock. How could he have been so cruel to her? That was the first time Molly had told him off for deducing her and the moment he realised her affection for him was more than infatuation and lust. Sherlock squared his shoulders and decided that he would keep the memory there to remind of him how truly horrid he had been to the woman and how he would now devote himself to keeping her happy.   
Leaving his mind palace Sherlock pulled Molly tighter to him, shame filling every part of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry not much happened in this one but I wanted to get his feeling across.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the wedding!

** Chapter fifteen **

 

Molly Hooper sat at a vanity table staring at the reflection in front of her. The thirty-two year old pathologist had never thought the day would come when she would be sat in her wedding dress. The feel of the ivory silk made her feel like a princess. Mary had done her makeup flawlessly and she couldn’t help but smile each time she saw herself. Behind her three closes female friends were laughing with each other, Mary Watson fused over her daughter who had recently started walking. Molly had made sure the little girl’s dress matched her mother’s bridesmaid dress. The other two Bridesmaids were Molly sister-in-laws. Molly drew in and let out a long breath taking in the scene around her.

Molly rose stepped over to the full length mirror, Mary came up behind her and placed the veil on her. Molly’s hair had been left mostly down in gentle curls.  Biting down on her bottom lip molly felt the butterflies flittering around her stomach. It was her wedding day and she was marrying the man of her dreams.

The door knocked and a voice told the bridesmaids their car had arrived and it was time to go. The three women and Lily hustled out of the room leaving Molly alone. Taking in a few deep breath she tried to calm her nerves. A moment later Greg Lestrade entered the room, Molly had asked him to walk her down the aisle. Not having a father and knowing her brothers would not take it seriously she wanted her closest friend to give her strength that day. He had accepted graciously. He held his breath for a moment when he looked at her.

“Wow, you look amazing!”

She giggled a little embarrassed. “Thank you.”

“Come on, time to go.” They walked down the stairs together and climbed into the limo that was waiting for them at the door. Molly thought she might throw up she was so nervous. She held her bouquet tight in her hands.

“I’m so happy for you Molly.” Greg smiled, “everyone is so, even Sally was impressed.” They laughed.

“I still keep thinking I’m going to wake up.”

The car pulled round the corner and came up to the church. It was a small country church that had been the one her family visited when she was a child. The bridesmaid were waiting outside and the congregation of friends and family had already taken their seats inside.

More excited now than nervous Molly clung on to Greg’s arm. He gave her a tender smile as the wedding march started to play. Everybody stood and turned watching the bride. Molly couldn’t see them, she only saw Sherlock standing so tall and so handsome in his dark grey suit.

Sherlock’s heart skipped a beat when he saw her, the most beautiful woman in all the world in his eyes. He wondered in that moment how it had taken him so long to see her for what she was. He could see her smile beneath the vial, her pale skin perfectly contrasted by the ivory wedding dress. The lace came over her shoulders and loosely resembled the Royal Wedding dress a few years before.

The man beside Sherlock noted the stop of breath from the groom and gave him a slight knock with his elbow. Sherlock released his lungs.

Greg kissed Molly’s hand and swept the vial back over head before giving her hand over to Sherlock. She smiled up at him and smiled at her, every part of him wanting to pull her into him.

The wedding was fairly traditional, two hymns were sung and then the vows. The pair had opted to write their own and Sherlock went first.

“Molly Hooper, my whole life was led in the pursuit of knowledge I cared not for sentiment of others; but you touched me in a way I never thought I could be touched. You opened my mind to the let in my heart and you have filled my world with happiness. There is no man in this whole world that could be luckier than I to have you love me the way you do. I have given myself to you wholly and I devote every day to you, all of my days. I, Sherlock Holmes have fallen deeply, madly, unchangeably, and wholeheartedly in love with you. I thank you for all the ways you make me happy, and I hope I can give that same happiness to you. I love you for now, for ever and for always.”

There wasn’t an eye left in the church that did not have a tear in it. Molly chocked hers back not knowing if she would be able to say her own vows. Calming herself she spoke;

“Sherlock, you are the most intelligent man I have ever known, there are so many ways I could stand here and compliment you. But you can see all my admiration in every breath I give you. I am blessed to have known and to have you close to me. Even in those moments when you are a complete arse-” the crowd chuckled, “I will still love you. With all my heart and all my body, mind and soul I am yours, for now and always. I love you.”   

Sherlock allowed a single tear to fall down his cheek not caring if anybody saw it.

The vicar asked for the rings and John stepped forward handing them over. Sherlock slipped the white gold band onto Molly’s finger and she did the same to him.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss the bride!” the congregation erupted in cheers as Sherlock pulled his new wife into him and kissed her. He didn’t seem to care that he was being watched, he held her in that embrace truly the happiest he had ever been.

as the newly wed couple walked down through the church yard they stopped at the side of a grave. Molly took one of the ivory roses from her bouquet and placed it on the headstone. Sherlock bowed the top half of his body to the grave.

"i will care for her, Mr Hooper."

Molly let a single tear drop down her face as they bid farewell to her father.

The reception had been beautifully set out in the village hall, with simple white roses decorating the walls. On the top table John sat next to Sherlock he rose to his feet tapping a fork to the edge of his champagne glass.

“Well, we never thought this day would come did we?” everyone laughed, “now don’t worry there isn’t going to be any sudden solving of murders this time.” John referenced his own wedding in which Sherlock had discovered a plot to kill an old army friend of his. “When I first met Sherlock he already knew Molly but it would be a few more years before the pair would take their relationship further. We have to face it Sherlock was stupid and ignored Molly for some time. Sherlock Holmes is my closest and best friend. He is a man that has no social skills and though he hides behind his façade no one has ever cared so fiercely for his friends. The time in which he has been with Molly I have seen him grow into a most loyal and loving man. A side to Sherlock no one thought they would see. I couldn’t be happier for him to have found Molly. She is purely beautiful in every way, her heart radiates joy and somehow she has managed to melt this one’s heart. I could not imagine a more perfect couple. It has been my honour and my pleasure to watch you both grow together. Ladies and gentleman if you would like to stand, please raise your glasses to Mr and Mrs Holmes! The bride and groom!”

The crowd stood and raised their glasses repeating John’s sentiment. Molly smiled and kissed her husband.

“Mrs Holmes.” Sherlock repeated into her ear, “I like the sound of that.” His voice was an octave deeper and filled with happiness.

“Me two.” Molly whispered, and gave him another kiss.

Sherlock held her face in his hand, “you have no idea how much I want to take you to our room, Mrs Holmes.”

“Calm down Mr Holmes we still have the first dance. And the cake.”

He let out a sigh and turned back to john. John was smiling at Sherlock. The new husband stood up and put his arms around John pulling him for an embrace. John instinctively wrapped his arms around his friend. He congratulated him and they both took their seats.

During the first dance, molly clung onto Sherlock as he swept her around the dance floor to the tune that was played on a violin. The child Archie a nephew of Mary Watson was playing it on the stage. He had taken the instrument up after meeting Sherlock and it had pleased the detective to teach him. As he played john joined him, taking up his clarinet. Molly smiled broadly on seeing the pair playing together. Sherlock lent into her. “Keep watching.” He whispered as they turned slowly. Gradually more and more people stepped onto the stage. Instruments in hand and began to play. The sound of the orchestra sent shivers through Molly and she looked up to her husband letting a breath of love out of her.

“Do you like it?” Sherlock asked her.

“You wrote it?”

“For you.”

Molly reached up and pressed a kiss onto Sherlock that told him every emotion she was feeling in that moment. The lavish seven tear cake was cut and handed out to the guests. There was dancing and drinking and everyone was having fun. Sherlock barely left Molly’s side except for when she wanted to dance. He took a moment to go outside and light up a cigarette, he took in the taste and savoured it. Sherlock had made the decision to actually give up smoking, he had something to live for now and his wife was not keen on him smoking. This would be his last one. His brother joined him, lighting his own cigarette.

“Well done brother, mummy is very proud.”

“I had noticed, she has become very merry.” Sherlock was smiling.

“Very, she is currently dancing with her new daughter-in-law.” The brothers laughed; it was not something they often did together. “I am happy for you, Sherlock.”

“You have taken a keen liking to my wife, Mycroft.”

“Any woman who could soften a heart as hard as yours should be cherished. She is a remarkable woman, the best in her profession. I admire her mind before all else. She is a perfect match for you.” The words had seemed difficult for Mycroft to say.

“You are becoming sentimental in your old age brother dear.” There was a hint of joking in Sherlock’s voice.

“Aren’t we all?”

Molly appeared at the door.

“Excuse me but might I steal my husband away for one last dance?” her words were slightly slurred from the amount of champagne she had drunk throughout the day. Mycroft bowed his head to her and moved aside as Sherlock passed by him. He took her hand and followed the slight woman to the dance floor. He put his arms around her and held her body close to his as the slow music played gently. Several others were still dancing though the crowd had thinned out somewhat. At the end of the song, they had decided it was time to go home. Molly hugged her new in-laws tightly and even reached up to press a kiss to Mycroft’s cheek. He smiled a genuine smile to her and for the first time Molly saw the gentle eyes of her brother-in-law and how sad he was. John and Mary were waiting for them at the door. John shook Sherlock’s hand. “Look after her.!” He said with a grin.

“I endeavour to.”

The cab ride to the hotel room was quiet, Molly lent into the crook of Sherlock’s shoulder, his arm wrapped around her. Sherlock had never felt so content to be sat with another person. There had never been anyone else that could calm him the way the woman tucked up against him could. She was his perfection.

They had barely entered the room when he took hold of his wife pulling her into him. His hands made easy work of unlacing the back of her dress and letting it slip to the ground. He glanced down at the ivory corset and stockings Molly was wearing.

“Oh Mrs Holmes that is . . .” he was lost for words but his body spoke them for him. Sherlock took his wife and they consummated the marriage.

 

 

When the honeymoon was over Molly and Sherlock returned to their flat at 221B Baker Street. The living room had been filled with the wedding presents. Giggling with excitement Molly jumped into it and started unwrapping them. She took note of what each person had given them so that she could send thank you notes. One box struck her as odd; she didn’t know why it did, but something wasn’t right about it. Molly lifted the box onto her lap and untied the silver bow. The box fell open and inside was a beautifully decorated egg. Molly furrowed her brow at it. Yes the gift was beautiful but she it made no sense to her. She picked up the note that was written in perfect calligraphy.

Congratulations to you both

L B

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok thanks for following it to the end!  
> I am going to be doing a sequel to explain the note at the end so watch this space!  
> x


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